A Kingfisher appeared in the distance on the Long Water. This picture was taken from over 200 yards away in poor light, so it it's quite bad.

There are probably two Kingfishers permanently on the lake, but you only get an occasional glimpse of them, mostly a flash of blue streaking across the water and landing on a branch out of sight.

The Teal also came briefly out of a patch of reeds and immediately disappeared into another.

The Black Swan was at the east end of the Serpentine attending to his feathers.

His girlfriend's brother was peacefully asleep nearby.

When the Black Swan had finished preening, he swam over to the brother who, like all birds, was sleeping with one eye open and sat up and looked at him. I was expecting an outbreak of hostilities, but in fact they just passed each other, a bit warily perhaps. It seems that the Black Swan is calming down.

A pair of Great Crested Grebes were displaying on the Serpentine.

They didn't get quite revved up enough to do their dance, but this will probably happen soon. One of them is still in plain winter plumage, but grebes don't require full dress for their rituals.

A young Herring Gull on the Long Water was picking up a piece of weed, dropping it into the lake, and diving to catch it.

There was a Green Woodpecker in a small tree on Buck Hill.

At the bottom of the hill there was a female Blackbird with a white face. Usually it is the males that have white patches.

A Carrion Crow was cawing furiously beside the Serpentine, proclaiming ownership of a bit of plastic bag it had found while other crows sat around in the trees.

After all this fuss, there was no food in the plastic.

A Robin was looking almost camouflaged among some bright brown beech leaves.

A Song Thrush was singing from a treetop at the southwest corner of the leaf yard.

A Ring-Necked Parakeet was examining a possible nest hole near the Albert Memorial.

It feels like early spring at the moment, and you have to remind yourself that it's actually the beginning of January. No doubt we shall have plenty of vile winter weather before the real spring begins.

The Black Swan was hard to find. I went round the lake carefully examining everywhere he was likely to be, and found his girlfriend by herself. So I wondered if he was in Regent's Park again, and went over for a quick tour of the lake -- no sign of the swan. When I came back at sunset, there he was in his usual place next to the Dell restaurant terrace, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in his beak. He hooted a greeting and came over to take a digestive biscuit.

As I left, I saw his girlfriend heading down the lake to meet him.

There was a Mandarin drake at Peter Pan, the first one seen this year, looking very fine (if you like your ducks absolutely over the top).

They fly in from the Regent's Canal, and often spend time out of sight inside a large bush on the opposite side of the lake.

This Black-Headed Gull is another visitor from Lithuania. I was with Alan Gibson, the gull recorder, when we saw it, and Alan said that he had seen this bird at Alexandra Palace a couple of years ago. Its dark red bill and feet suggest that it is quite old, so I may get an interesting history from Ricardas Patapavicius, who ringed it in Lithuania.

A young Herring Gull had found a new toy, a bit of mouldy rope tied to the jetty at the Lido, which it was pulling as hard as it could.

A Pied Wagtail was hunting for insects on the platform at Bluebird Boats. The grooves cut into the planks make it a good place for finding small insects.

Again, there was a flock of Long-Tailed Tits hunting in the shrubbery beside the lake below the Triangle car park.

A Jay at the leaf yard was looking at me impatiently, waiting to be given a peanut.

Charlie the Carrion Grow had got two, having barged his mate Melissa out of the way when I threw one to her.

His very shiny plumage is a sign of his success in getting nutritious food, and he never seems to go up Queensway with the tatty riffraff crows to raid the rubbish bins of Chinese restaurants.

Glad to report that the Black Swan is back from Regent's Park. Here he is preening his ruffles at the east end of the Serpentine ...

... and here he is joined by his girlfriend, who has been cruising around with her wings raised to show that she is again a swan of importance.

A short way off, a couple of Mute Swans were also showing signs of affection.

Jorgen Schiott sent in this interesting picture of an odd-looking Mallard on the Serpentine. He wonders whether it is a hybrid, perhaps with a Gadwall, and mentions that its plumage has fine striations like that of a Gadwall.

I am not sure about that. Ordinary Mallards also have some striated plumage, as you can see in this picture of one having an enthusiastic wash.

One of the pair of Grey Herons on the island was on its nest when I first went passed, but later both of them crossed the lake to the Lido for a bit of fishing.

A Black-Headed Gull was hovering around, trying to grab a fish from a Cormorant that was having difficulty separating it from a strand of algae. The Cormorant managed to get its fish out and swallow it.

A flock of Long-Tailed Tits was moving along the edge of the Serpentine near the Triangle car park. They have been visiting the shrubbery here every day for some time.

A Great Tit was singing on Buck Hill.

There were some Mistle Thrushes looking for worms in the grass on Buck Hill, but when the ambulance helicopter landed there they flew into a tree.

The park birds are no longer worried by this helicopter, which visits daily and is now part of the scene. Buck Hill is the usual pickup point for Central London casualties requiring urgent attention.

On a dull wet day there were few people about, and some Black-Headed Gulls were taking the opportunity to play in the Diana fountain.

On the other side of the enclosure the two Herring Gulls were on their usual hunting ground, not needing to do their worm dance because the rain was bringing up plenty.

The Great Crested Grebes at the island were still examining the space between the baskets.

When the time comes to make a nest -- which won't be till next summer -- they usually make it on the inner side of the line of baskets, out of sight of both marauding gulls and photographers.

Another small party of grebes has arrived, and they were sitting together in the middle of the Serpentine. It takes them a couple of days to stop flocking together and resume their usual way of life as pairs with their own territories.

The Black Swan's girlfriend has been by herself every time I have seen her since he was taken away. It is hard to tell what is going on in a swan's mind, but I think she misses him, and especially the special place the partnership gave her in the pecking order. Now she is just another junior Mute Swan to be chased about by adults.

One of the pair of Grey Herons on the island was back in the nest, but just standing there and not collecting twigs to build it up.

A female Shoveller was cruising below, looking quietly elegant beside the gaudy drakes.

An Egyptian Goose gave me a lofty stare from a stone plinth at the outflow of the lake.

Long-Tailed Tits have remarkable faces. Their very frontally set eyes and tiny beaks gave them an almost owl-like look.

A Cormorant which had been fishing under the balustrade of the Italian Garden ...

... took off and flew down the lake to the line of posts by Peter Pan. One of them had a young Herring Gull on it, but the posts on either side were unoccupied. The Cormorant headed straight for the gull and knocked it off.

The rain had made this Pied Wagtail sadly bedraggled.

That is not a problem with water birds, and this handsome Shoveller drake was as dry as ever.

And a Great Crested Grebe had a little pool of water on its shoulders, held in place by its well greased plumage.

A pair of grebes were inspecting a possible nest site between two baskets at the island, and paused for a display.

They are not serious about nesting at the moment, and this is just the equivalent of people staring idly into estate agents' windows at pictures of houses they will never buy.

The pair of Grey Herons on the island were not bothering with their half completed nest, and were mooching around on the baskets.

This Lesser black-Backed Gull is already losing the grey winter flecks on its head and returning to the pure white of its breeding plumage.

A young Herring Gull had taken a bit of apple from a Canada Goose.

I have no idea what the Black-Headed Gull at the front of this chase is holding. It looks like a bit of tripe, but that seems unlikely. Whatever it is, the other gull wants it.

One of the pair of Herring Gulls that hang out in the Diana fountain enclosure was dancing to attract worms to the surface. This works remarkably well, and it pulled up four in the same spot within a minute.

The pair always hunt within a small area the size of a singles tennis court. It is not clear whether this is an unusually wormy patch or whether it is simply the gulls' habit to go there.

There is no doubt that the north end of the Long Water near the Italian Garden is full of fish. One of these was seeing its last daylight as it was swallowed by a Cormorant ...

... and a Great Crested Grebe was also finding plenty under the dead willow tree.

The family of Moorhens in the Italian Garden are still together and may often be seen foraging in the grass strips down either side of the garden. They are probably looking for small grubs, but a Moorhen will eat almost anything -- the secret of their success.

A Blackbird behind the Lido ate an ivy berry. Like many berries these are poisonous to mammals but nutritious to birds, which later deposit the seeds undigested and help the plant to spread.

On the terrace underneath, the odd couple were wandering around together. They have been mates for years but have never produced any goslings. It is very likely that the Canada-Greylag hybrid is sterile.

The Grey Heron nest on the Serpentine island was occupied again. But the birds don't seem to be serious about nesting, and only occasionally add twigs to the big heap.

The twig held by this Black-Headed Gull is just a toy. They migrate away in spring to breed, some of them going to northern Europe and some to local landfill sites, a rich supply of food if you aren't fussy.

Robins are singing all over the park. This one was in the Dell.

The name 'Robin' is a remnant of the medieval habit of giving familiar birds personal names: Robin Redbreast, Jenny Wren, Philip Sparrow, Jack Daw. In this case the first part of the name has survived into modern usage; with the Wren it is the other way round.