The Mute Swans from the Long Water have now firmly established themselves on the far side of the bridge, probably dreaming of exclusively owning both lakes. They had made an encampment (rather dung-encrusted, it has to be said) on the path below the Triangle car park, and were frightening the more nervous passers by. Several people made a detour rather than walk past them.

A younger cygnet from the second brood was flapping its tiny undeveloped wings.

Swans don't grow proper wings until they are several months old, which is just as well considering how unmanoeuvrable they are in the ir, always at risk of crashing into obstacles.

The Coots nesting in the small boathouse have one chick, which has jumped down into the water and has no way of getting up again. Its mother is still sitting on unhatched eggs. But the father is feeding it, and it may have a chance.

The male Little Owl was on his usual branch in the chestnut tree. The warm weather reliably brings him out.

Underneath the next tree, a Blackbird was pulling up and shredding a cobweb,presumably getting trapped insects out of it. I've never seen this before.

A Song Thrush was sunbathing in the leaf yard, absolutely at ease.

While I was unsuccessfully looking for the Tawny Owls, I heard Treecreepers calling from a nearby tree. When I approached they froze motionless on the bark, as these birds do to conceal themselves -- and how well camouflaged they are when they stay still.

After a couple of minutes they relaxed and ran up the tree in their usual way.

A Buzzard was soaring high over the Long Water, though not high enough to avoid being chased away by a Carrion Crow and a Herring Gull.

The male Little Owl was sitting on his usual branch, but the place was hidden by leaves and the only place from which I could see him clearly was directly underneath. As I was struggling through the brambles to get a good angle he looked down curiously with his big yellow eyes.

There were four Grey Herons on the Vista, perhaps attracted by the chance of getting a young rabbit. There was conflict, as usual with herons ...

... leading to a full-scale fight between two of them, in which they leapt and flapped at each other.

No damage was done and after a while they quietened down and went back to their fruitless pursuit of rabbits, which understandably run away when a big bird with a sharp beak stalks up to them.

In the same place, a young Magpie was demanding food from a parent.

A juvenile Moorhen was sunbathing beside the Serpentine.

This is the first that I have seen of that young bird, which is now a couple of months old. A pair of Moorhens hatched some chicks on the reed rafts a few weeks ago, butI haven't seen these recently and I think the gulls have got them.

A pair of Canada Geese at the east end of the Serpentine have two new goslings.

That makes a total of seven on the lake. But the Greylags seem to be stuck at one.

Two young Blackcaps were perched in a tree, calling to be fed while their parents flew around looking for food.

There was a Blackcaps' nest in exactly this place two years ago. It is on the path leading down the east side of the Long Water from the Italian Garden, about 30 yards from the corner of the garden.

Virginia Grey was also in the Italian Garden this morning, and saw a strange sight. An Egyptian Goose flew in carrying a broken egg with a dead chick in it, uttering terrible cries of lamentation, in which she was joined by her mate.

It is not clear what had happened. Had the egg been attacked, or accidentally broken, or had it hatched and the chick had died? And why had the brought it here? This is the unfortunate pair of Egyptians, the first pair to arrive in the park about eight years ago, who are such hopeless parents that they have never managed to raise any young at all, losing them within a couple of days every time.

However, the two Mandarin ducklings were in good order near Peter Pan, attended by their two mothers (or whatever they are). Here one of them extends its little wings.

And the new cygnets were with their mother near the Dell restaurant. Here one of them examines a dead leaf, perhaps the first one it has ever seen.

The Tawny owlets were in a companionable bundle on their usual lime tree.

We couldn't find either parent. The male Little Owl was also on his usual branch, though in a position where you could only see him clearly from 50 yards away up the hill.

A bumble bee was collecting pollen from a cornflower behind the Lido.

The Mute Swans nesting at the east end of the Serpentine have two cygnets. Here they are on the shore at the Lido restaurant.

The stuff that looks like spaghetti is apparently dead water weed which has bleached.

A pair of Egyptian Geese on the Serpentine have a new brood of four.

The Mandarins on the Long Water still have two ducklings, which have now grown large enough to lessen the danger from gulls.

Every day they survive makes them less vulnerable. The family seems to have two mothers, and has been like this for some time. It is not clear whose ducklings they are, but anyway the unusual arrangement seems to have worked well.

Long-Tailed Tits also share parental duties.

Their flocks are extended families, so the adults help their genes to survive by looking after their little nephews and nieces. These two are from nests in a bramble patch east of the Italian Garden.

A pair of young Magpies were sitting quietly in a tree on the west side of the Long Water, waiting for their parents to arrive with food, when they would erupt into noisy action.

This young Blackbird near the Albert Memorial is learning to forage for itself, but has not got the procedure quite right yet.

No Tawny Owls were visible today. The male Little Owl was in his usual chestnut tree, minding his own business, when he was suddenly mobbed by a flock of Great Tits and Blue Tits. He flew into the next chestnut up the hill. Here he is glaring over his shoulder at his pursuers, who of course were careful not to get too close.

A second later he flew deeper into the leaves and they gave up.

The Tawny Owlets were shifting about restlessly in the lime tree. Here one of them stretches out an already lethal foot.

Neither of their parents was in sight.

The bushes were full of families of tits. Here a young Great Tit vibrates its wings and calls for food ...

... and is promptly given a pine nut fetched from my hand.

The Blue Tit parents are looking rather scruffy, especially when compared with the suave and slightly fluffy look of their young.

A Grey Heron near the Henry Moore sculpture also had food on its mind.

I haven't seen one take a young rabbit, but I have often seen it hunting along the railings, hoping to grab one.

A pair of Great Crested Grebes were waving bits of weed at each other, not doing the proper dance but certainly thinking of nesting.

They will have to wait until this year's young fish have reached an adequate size before they can begin. Usually the first sign for a human observer is when you can see the fish at the edge of the water near Peter Pan; these are visible when about an inch long. A little later you can see movement in one of the wire baskets near the bridge.

The Greylag Geese have started moulting their flight feathers, and the shore of the Serpentine is already littered with the fallout.

The Mute Swan are also moulting, though they don't have as strict a schedule as the Greylags, which get the whole process done within the month of June. The Canada Geese moult a little later. The geese can take refuge in the water while unable to fly, but when they come out to graze they are in serious danger from thoughtless dog owners who let their pets run around on the edge of the lake.

All three Tawny owlets were visible in their usual lime tree, but facing away and there was not a decent photograph to be had. Then their mother father flew into one of the nearby plane trees that line the path, attracted by the screams of Ring-Necked Parakeets, and stared over her his shoulder at them to see if there was any chance of catching one.

Yesterday, Paul Turner had seen how the owl gets them. They have a habit of sitting in the bare branches at the top of some trees.

The owl swept in on silent wings, nearly managing to seize one in passing. It happened too suddenly for him to get a picture, but it there is definitely a chance of one if you see parakeets sitting in vulnerable positions. Today, however, the parakeets stayed in the safety of the leaves, which make it impossible for a bird the size of a Tawny Owl to glide in and grab them.

The male Little Owl was in his usual place in the chestnut tree.

Yesterday owlets were heard calling from the nest hole, so at least some of them have survived the predators so far.

The Coot family from the nest near the north end of the Long Water had come out to sun themselves on the ornamental rocks.

This is quite a good place to see water birds of all kinds, since it is just far away from the Italian Garden for watchers not to scare the birds away, but it is near enough for a reasonable photograph.

The young Coots neat the Serpentine island are now big enough to feed themselves. Here is one of them diving for algae.

The little crayfish in the bottom right corner of the picture was ignored. Evidently Coots have to learn that these are edible when small enough.

The patch of native wildflowers at the back of the Lido swimming area is coming into bloom. Here a bee is taking pollen from a borage flower.

Update: Correction: that's the male Tawny Owl, not the female, and it's him too in Saturday's picture. Look at the white patch just to the left of centre on his chest, and the larger and whiter patch of feathers around his beak. I got so used to seeing the female owl recently that I stopped looking.

A single Black-Headed Gull turned up on the Long Water today -- a very common sight in winter but unusual in June, when they should be away at their breeding grounds in northern Europe or on a British landfill site. Here it is on the farthest of the posts opposite Peter Pan, scratching its ear. It has already lost most of the dark brown feathers on its head that are its breeding plumage.

The Tawny Owl family had settled somewhere I couldn't find them. If they are not in their usual place and the owlets are not calling, it's next to impossible to find them.

However, when I was searching for them the pair of Goldfinches came over and the male started singing in a treetop, occasionally breaking off to take a bite out of a catkin. Here he stretches his wings shortly before flying away.

While I was still looking for the owls, standing still and looking at the tree through binoculars, a Red Admiral butterfly arrived. After flying around me it settled first on my hand, then on my shoulder. It's a shame that no one else was around to take a picture. Here it is on the much less exciting background of a stone.

The male Little Owl came out on to his usual branch on the chestnut tree.

On the Long Water, a pair of Coots in a nest with two chicks found the Mute Swan family coming too close for comfort, and sallied out to threaten them.

It did work, and the swans made a small detour around the nest.

A Blackbird was scolding something noisily in a tree near the Bayswater Road.

I wondered whether it might be the newly discovered family of Little Owls, which I have still not manage to see. But it turned out to be just a Carrion Crow.