Pigeon Eater strikes again

As a young Herring Gull by the Dell restaurant innocently played with a twig ...

... Pigeon Eater had grabbed another Feral Pigeon -- he usually gets at least one a day -- and was killing it by biting through its spinal cord. At least it's a quick death.

Across the lake, the Czech Black-Headed Gull patrolled along the edge, squawking to warn away rivals ...

... while the dominant gull at the landing stage had been pushed off by a bunch of geese and was swimming around crossly waiting for them to go. His dark head is now almost complete.

When you see a close group of gulls whirling around and screaming there are always some Common Gulls in it, in this case two. You can see their distinctive white wingtip patches.

A Cormorant was back under the Italian Garden. It didn't seem to be catching anything.

Cormorants sometimes try to jump out of the water directly on to a post, but it's a tricky business and they often lose their footing and fall humiliatingly back in the water. It's easier to jump on to a chain and climb up to the post.

One of the Great Crested Grebe pair at the bridge had stolen a Coots' nest as a place to rest, and was having a confrontation with the owner. Neither of them was seriously trying to nest, the place was just a Coot day bed.

The newly formed Moorhen couple in the Dell seems to be keeping together for now, and they were preening at the small waterfall in the Dell stream.

The teenage Mute Swan on the Long Water, 4HTH, was with its mother 4DTT at the Vista.

Her would-be suitor 4GIC was being kept at a distance by the angry teenager, which didn't want the intruder going anywhere near its mother.

It was chilly, but the Little Owl at the Serpentine Gallery was out in her usual lime tree enjoying the sunshine.

The inevitable Jays picked me up here and followed me along the Long Water. The variegated holly tree makes a good place to attract attention, as a lot of its branches are dead and bare.

A Carrion Crow looked down from the sweetgum tree at the Diana landing stage.

The Robin at the bridge ...

... and both the Coal Tits were expecting service, but still only one of the pair is coming to my hand.

There was a distant view of a Great Spotted Woodpecker in an Italian alder on Buck Hill. It flew away before I could get closer.

The young fox on the lawn under the Henry Moore sculpture seems to have recovered from the injury to its front leg, and could put both feet firmly on the ground as it groomed itself in the sunshine.