A very happy Christmas to everyone. It was a beautiful though chilly day and the park was thronged with people, so there wasn't much to see and this is really just a round of the regular birds.
The reeds by the Italian Garden looked pretty in the sunshine.
A cotoneaster bush at the southwest corner of the bridge was making a fine show of berries.
As you can see, quite a lot of them have been eaten. I've never seen any bird feeding on the fruit here, and the twigs are too thin to support Wood Pigeons, so I think it must have been the pair of Song Thrushes at the bottom of the steps by the lake. They wouldn't come out in this exposed place when there were people around.
There was a good assortment of Christmas Robins: at the bridge ...
... near the Buck Hill shelter ...
... and at Mount Gate.
Coal Tits appeared at the gate of the Flower Walk ...
... in a bush in the Rose Garden ...
... and in the corkscrew hazel in the Dell ...
... where the pair were joined by some Blue Tits.
A Jay was waiting for service in a plane tree behind the Albert Memorial.
A Magpie foraged along the edge of the lake by the Lido restaurant. It's always surprising to see how they can find edible things in apparently barren places. Wagtails also hunt along this stretch with equal success.
The usual female Wagtail was farther along the shore at Fisherman's Keep.
Another familiar sight: the dominant Black-Headed Gull guarding his territory at the landing stage.
A Grey Heron at the island was conveniently captioned.
A Great Crested Grebe was lit by the low sunlight.
Four of the six teenage Mute Swans from the Long Water went under the bridge to cause trouble on the Serpentine.
One of the others stayed behind in their resting place in the reeds.
A pair of Egyptian Geese noisily claimed territory on a tree by the leaf yard, defying a single one on a lower branch.
I pass Imperial College every day on my way to the park. The bell tower is reflected in one of the modern buildings. It was saved from demolition in 1969 by the intervention of the Poet Laureate, Sir John Betjeman. It contains ten bells, an unusual number since the usual maximum is eight. For Christmas Eve the ringers are ringing a peal, that is 5040 changes, the number that can be achieved by ringing seven bells in every possible order without repetition. This takes about three hours, and hauling on the ropes to swing the heavy bells is a serious test of fitness. A full peal on eight bells, 40,320 changes, would take 24 hours, and this has been done occasionally by ringers working in relays. To do it on ten bells would take 3,628,800 and is absolutely impossible.
Coming in at Queen's Gate and heading for the Flower Walk, I'm usually intercepted before I even go in by a Robin ...
... and a Coal Tit coming out in a cotoneaster bush.
The Robin at the southwest corner of the bridge is another regular customer among mobs of Great Tits. There's a pair of Coal Tits here too, but they haven't yet plucked up the courage to come to my hand.
The pair in the yew in the Dell were chasing each other through the branches.
There's a pair of Blue Tits in the same tree.
The birds in the Rose Garden didn't appear in their usual bushes, perhaps because it was a very cold day, but one of the Coal Tits flew into the abelia bush ...
... and the male Chaffinch was waiting in a cercis.
The rest finally appeared in the lime hedge as I was about to go out through the gate.
There is usually a pair of Magpies in the variegated holly tree between the bridge and the Vista. They swoop down to take peanuts from the railings, but it's necessary to divert the Carrion Crows first by throwing several small peanuts on the ground which they have to pick up one by one. The crows, of course, are perfectly aware of this manoeuvre and try to grab the ones on the railings too.
The female Pied Wagtail was running up the edge at Fisherman's Keep.
There was just one Grey Heron on the nest at the west end of the island. It's a distinctive bird with darker eyes than herons usually have. Its mate has the usual flat-looking yellow stare.
The Cormorants which crowded on the the lake in the autumn have eaten almost all the fish and most of them have flown back to the river. There were seven on the Long Water, two of which were fishing under the Italian Garden.
Just three are left on the Serpentine, and here they are preening on the posts at the island. The one nearest the camera has two perfectly good legs but insisted on balancing on one, probably to keep its other foot warm on a cold day.
There seem to be only two Great Crested Grebes, both on the Serpentine: a male at Fisherman's Keep ...
... and a female at the island. They tend to leave in very cold weather in case the lake freezes. Like the Cormorants, they go to the upper reaches of the river.
The Black Swan is thoroughly spoilt by visitors, and it's hard not to pamper this handsome creature. As soon as he saw me he hurried over for a treat of sunflower hearts, which he is very fond of.
When I was coming back on the other side of the lake he spotted me again. Well, I have plenty of sunflower hearts.
The Egyptian Geese under the Henry Moore sculpture usually stay in the shadow even on cold days when a bit of sunshine might seem welcome.
A very happy Christmas to all readers. If I am spared I shall be trundling out tomorrow too,
It was a dark grey day with a chilly east wind. There was so little light that any picture not taken in the open was quite bad. At least the sun is now beginning to crawl up the sky after its low point at the winter solstice. A very late red hot poker flower in the Rose Garden was doing its best to look bright but not really succeeding.
There were more Blue Tits here than Great Tits, which is unusual. Their numbers have been building up over the past few weeks. Perhaps word is getting around that someone will feed them.
The Coal Tits tend to stay at the top of the tall lime hedge on the south side and whizz down suddenly to your hand when you aren't looking.
The two in the Dell are easier to photograph, waiting patiently because they know they'll get their pine nuts in due course.
The reliable Robin at the southwest corner of the bridge was fluffed up to the maximum against the cold.
The Robins at Mount Gate, which are mates in the breeding season, were chasing each other around the flower bed. This dim picture was taken at 2.55 pm, when already the shadows were closing in.
The Pied Wagtail was at Fisherman's Keep, well to the east of her usual hunting ground.
This left the shore near the Lido vacant for the Grey Wagtail, which otherwise would have been chased off.
It preferred not to head into the chilly east wind, but got ruffled for facing the wrong way.
Near the Wasteland a paper container that had held churros with chocolate sauce was monopolised by one dominant Feral Pigeon, which shooed the other pigeons and a Black-Headed Gull away.
Jackdaws appeared all the way along the shore from the island to the Dell restaurant.
A Jay waited in a winged elm by the Italian Garden.
I looked up this peculiar tree. It's a native of the eastern United States, and was briefly planted in Britain as an ornamental species in the 19th century but remains quite rare here. It's said to be susceptible to Dutch elm disease which killed the English elms in the park, but it's thriving and spreading around the edge of the Long Water. The distinctive ribs on the bark of the twigs only appear after two years, so new shoots are smooth.
The dominant Black-Headed Gull on the landing stage was annoyed because a young Herring Gull was standing in his favourite place.
The Grey Herons in the nest at the west end of the island were together again. This new pair seem much more enthusiastic than the previous occupants.
There's a large group of nests close together in the middle of the island, which is odd because only one pair would be able to nest here without serious territorial conflict. It's not at all clear what's going on at the moment because the nests are too high to see into from the shore.
Just one Cormorant was left on the Serpentine, fishing under moored pedalos at the boat hire platform. There are still a few others on the Long Water.
A group of Mute Swans on the edge of the Serpentine abandoned their rivalry for a while and preened peacefully together.
The dominant Black-Headed Gull on the landing stage usually has an easy time defending his territory, as the other gulls and even some larger birds are frightened of him. But today he was looking restless and was calling.
The reason soon became apparent, as another Black-Headed Gull was flying around and landed aggressively beside him. They strutted around side by side in a head-down threatening pose for a while until the intruder gave up and flew away.
The Black Swan was also in an aggressive mood, and was cruising around the killer Mute Swan's six teenagers by the Triangle. This is a risky thing to do, as if the killer spots it he will dash over in a fury, but the Black Swan enjoys living on the edge.
The damage caused by the swans to the flimsy plastic frame over the new reed bed has reached the stage where a Moorhen can get in and out of a gap in the netting. It will do no harm, but Coots can get in too and they will delight in tearing up the plants.
I doubt there will be any attempt to repair it. That is not the way the park management works. When some large and expensive floating beds of water plants were installed by the Dell restaurant, they did nothing while swans smashed down the barriers and destroyed everything. The barriers could easily have been strengthened with a hundred pounds' worth of wooden battens strapped to the top edge with cable ties, but that never occurred to them.
There is usually a Grey Heron under the collapsed willow at the bridge, an excellent fishing spot as fish lurk in the shadows under the half-submerged branches. The willow remains alive in spite of its trunk being broken, so it isn't falling to bits like the other fallen trees in the Long Water.
The Long Water is home to Mallard, Gadwall, Shoveller, Tufted Duck, Common Pochard and Red-Breasted Pochard. All are common enough, but the Common Pochard is in serious decline nationally so it's cheering to see that they are increasing here, with a winter population now over 80.
The female Pied Wagtail was dashing up and down the edge of the lake by the Lido restaurant terrace. Occasionally she finds a tiny larva, not much to sustain her, so that in winter she has to hunt coninuously. Sometimes there are midges, even in the depth of winter, which provide a bit more nutrition.
For many years there has been a Robin in an olive tree near the west gate of the Lido swimming area. It can't possibly be the same one, so there must be a family dynasty here. It's very defensive about its tree, scolding and chasing other birds and singing.
A Robin perched on a rubbish sack in the Dell. This isn't one I know, but it came down to pick up pine nuts thrown on the ground.
The Robin near the Henry Moore sculpture is a regular customer and now perches confidently on my hand.
The pair of Magpies at the Lido are always waiting in a tree.
Another besdie the Long Water perched in a hazel bush laden with catkins.
One of the Jays preferred a winged elm. These small trees which grow all down the east side of the Long Water are liked by many birds, as the long unobstructed branches provide an easy landing and takeoff and a good view.
There was a Wren on another.
The usual Blue Tits ...
... and Coal Tits turned up in the Rose Garden ...
... and so did the Coal Tit pair in the Dell, today in the big yew tree which provides shelter and cover for many small birds.
This brown Feral Pigeon shows what happens when the basic Rock Dove pattern is disrupted by a lack of black eumelanin pigment. The ginger phaeomelanin is present in normal quantities. These color mutations only affect feathers: as you can see, its bill and the pupils of its eyes are as dark as normal -- as indeed they are in white pigeons where all the feather pigment has failed. Albino birds with no colour anywhere do exist, but they are rare and don't live long as the lack of black in their eyes gives them poor vision.
