A Little Owl surprise

It rained pitilessly in the morning. It doesn't do any harm to Mute Swans, but I'm sure they were relieved when it stopped.

Cormorants do get wet, and the little group at Peter Pan had to abandon drying their wings.

The Grey Heron in the nest at the east end of the Serpentine island was looking soggy and dejected.

By the time I got round the lake to the Lido the rain had stopped and there was even an occasional flash of sunlight. The heron was in its usual place on the handrail.

The Black Swan had abandoned his unsuccessful advances to the Mute Swan and was alone again. Naturally he came over for some sunflower hearts.

When he arrived in the park a couple of years ago he was a teenager, clearly brought up in the wild and quite ignorant of human behaviour. But his status as the only Black Swan in the park led a lot of people to feed him, and he is now a practised beggar.

The Egyptian Geese with their single offspring have also received at lot of attention, and trot up expectantly to anyone they see. I was glad to note that the young one's lameness is improving daily, and if you didn't know about its injury you might not notice the remaining slight limp.

The pair at the Italian Garden were on Buck Hill and came down hopefully. I don't feed Egyptians, though plenty of other people do.

Pigeon Eater was wandering around looking for a chance. The light caught his distinctive eye with spots on the yellow iris, by which he can be infallibly recognised.

A close-up view.

The dominant Black-Headed Gull at the landing stage admired the reflection of his new dark head.

I would never have thought to look for the Little Owl in Hyde Park on such a cheerless day, but Triss, a member of the bird rescue group, was passing and noticed it in a tall horse chestnut, and he got this picture. This is almost certainly one of the two hatched earlier this year and, as you can see from the bushy eyebrows, is male.

A Carrion Crow in the Dell flipped over wet leaves, looking for anything edible underneath.

Two Jays followed me along the edge of the Long Water.

The Robin at the southwest corner of the bridge was expecting service ...

... and so was the one at Mount Gate.

It was looking aggrieved because it had to wait while I tried to coax a Coal Tit down from the cockspur thorn tree. It didn't come -- only one of the pair here  will -- but took a pine nut from the ground along with the Robin.

Both the Coal Tits in the Dell showed up in the corkscrew hazel bush, waiting to take pine nuts from the railings.

Going home I passed the Albert Memorial, glowing in the soft evening light.