After yesterday's frantic events it was a quiet day in the park.  The young Great Tits, of whom there are a large number, flock down to be fed and sometimes you get a queue of them along your arm, jostling impatiently for their turn. They have already started prosepcting for insects on the twigs, and will be independent of their parents soon.

The feeding of a Magpie family is a noisy business, with the young squawking loudly as thesy chase their parents from tree to tree. This one was so impatient that it grabbed a twig along with the proffered food. Luckily this was too large to swallow.

The eight new Egyptian Geese are no longer pretty fluffy ducklings, and are going through a gawky teenage phase.

They will look better in a few weeks when their wings have grown -- though this is the dangerous time for Egyptians, as you don't know whether the wings will develop properly or they will suffer the sad bent 'angel wing' which means that they will never fly. If 'angel wing' is caused by bad diet (especially by being given too much bread) the odds are good, as the lake is full of algae which are a much more nutritious food.

The Mute Swans' seven cygnets are about the same age and size, but of course will take longer to reach their final huge dimensions. They remain elegant through the whole process.

Andrew just sent me this splendid picture of the heron seizing the rat.

You can see some more of his photographs here.

A violent day in the park. As I was walking by the leaf yard, the Grey Heron who fishes for rats in the tall nettles along the edge of the railings managed to grab one.

After a short time the unfortunate rat was borne away to be swallowed in private, so we did not see its grisly end. Andrew was standing next to me with his splendid professional camera at the ready, and started shooting earlier. He has promised to send me a picture of the moment of capture and I hope to put it on the blog tomorrow; it will be much better than mine.

However, that was not the end of the excitement. Coming home past the Dell restaurant, I saw two Lesser Black-Backed Gulls hunting pigeons. One was chasing them in the open air, like a hawk, and failed again and again because pigeons are fast and agile flyers. The other was on foot, chasing them along the shore, and seemed equally unsuccessful.

But then the point of this method became clear. A pigeon was frightened into the air and flew out low over the lake. And the gull went after it, grabbed it by the scruff of the neck,

bore it down into the water and tried to drown it.

But it was the pigeon's lucky day, and it struggled free and escaped.

After all that, it was reassuring to see that the seven cygnets of the Mute Swans from the Lido are still with us, and so are the eight Egyptian Geese on the Serpentine. And the brood of ten Egyptians on the Round Pond, of which Elizabeth sent a slide show a few days ago, is also intact; Paul saw them this morning.

Near the Serpentine Gallery, one of my familiar Carrion Crows dropped past for a peanut. No sooner had it landed than there was a loud rattling and an angry Mistle Thrush whizzed down and bashed it on the head. The crow hastily took its nut and flew several hundred yards away to be left in peace.

One of the Little Owls, long unseen, appeared for a moment on a branch in the leaf yard, and was gone before I could get a hand to my camera. But it is good to know that they are still here.

Some of the moulting geese on the Serpentine have their first new feathers already. Here is the wing of a Greylag, showing the feathers emerging neatly wrapped in a blue package, which will split and allow them to unfurl. This arrangement is necessary because the barbs on the feather point the wrong way to allow it to emerge from its follicle.

Three Greylags flew overhead, their wing feathers complete, but I could not see whether they had moulted and grown new ones early, or whether they were coming to the lake to shed the old ones.

A Bar-Headed Goose made a welcome visit. This is the offspring of one of the poor captive pinioned geese in Regent's or St James's Park, but has escaped their fate and has come to the Serpentine several times before. These Indian geese spend the summer north of the Himalayas and the winter to the south of them, and fly over the mountains twice a year at 30,000 feet, an altitude where a human would die just by being there.

It is not the only goose that has recently escaped from a London park collection. A few years ago I saw a Red-Breasted Goose swimming along the Grand Union Canal near Wormwood Scrubs, in company with some Canadas.

Here is a young Chaffinch seen pursuing its parents, crying to be fed.

 

Three Goldcrests were singing in a 50-yard stretch of the Flower Walk. These tiny birds are definitely on the increase in the park.

Nearby, a crowd of Swifts was circling the Albert Memorial as if it had suddenly become infested with insects. From a bird's point of view, it may be an important structure. Migrant birds are seen flying over the west end of Kensington Gardens more often than they are over the rest of the park. I think they use the tall gilded spire as a way marker.

A Wren was singing loudly beside the Long Water, his little body trembling with the effort of producing this huge sound.

I went to see the House Martins at the embassies: there were at least 20 of them circling the two buildings. As far as I can see, there are now six nests on the Kuwaiti embassy but none at all on the French embassy. Despite the French building being a more suitable site because its front faces west and is warmed by the setting sun, the House Martins have not returned to their former sites in the cornice after being forced out by building work two years ago. Evidently the remains of last year's nests in the Kuwaiti building have saved the birds from having to do so much building work themselves.

The swan who drooped for so long beside the Serpentine has really got his mojo back. After I threw a few bits of biscuit on the ground for him, he charged up and tried to grab my bag to get the rest of the biscuits, biting me quite hard on the hand. It is good to see him so animated.

An idiotic Coot was trying to build a nest on the jetty of Bluebird Boats, deserted because of the dull weather. As soon as people start hiring boats again, she is going to be evicted.

The Coots nesting in the irises in the Italian Garden have hatched their first chick. There are seven eggs in the nest, so more should follow. This annual close-up show is always worth watching.

Meanwhile, the Coots in the net near the Lido ventured briefly out of their protective net. Baby Coots have an elderly, tatty look, but a certain charm nevertheless.

There were at least 500 geese on the north shore of the Serpentine, sitting and wandering around peacefully as the persistent rain had kept away visitors with their dogs. The Greylags chose the east side of the Bluebird Boats cabin ...

... and the Canadas took the west side.

Again, large numbers of Swifts were swooping over the lake to catch low-flying insects; there were also a couple of dozen House Martins. The rain encourages songbirds and there were some glorious recitals by Blackbirds and Song Thrushes.

The sad Mute Swan who sat on the path on the south side of the Serpentine, ignoring the passing crowds, seems to be recovering. He now stands up and comes over to be fed. During his long depression Malcolm used to come and feed him, and I have also been giving him biscuits from time to time. Today he was walking around and taking notice of the other swans.

A pair of Blackbirds followed me persistently between the leaf yard and the owls' tree, demanding food which they took to a young sweet chestnut tree a short way off. So they have a nest there. I did not explore further, since Blackbirds are so threatened in the park that one should do nothing to disturb them, but will keep an eye out for young birds -- large, fluffy and awkward. There is also a Song Thrush nest on the west side of the Long Water near the bridge, well hidden but its existence can be deduced from the behaviour of the parents.

All the Mute Swans' 17 surviving cygnets and 8 young Egyptian Geese could be seen on the Serpentine. Sunday is a busy day for them, as there are plenty of visitors to feed them bread. It isn't good for them, but with luck the plentiful algae and grass will supply the nutrients not provided by bread.

The pigeon-eating Lesser Black-Backed Gull had just claimed a new victim and was devouring it on the edge of the Serpentine, quite undisturbed by the people milling around on the shore and frequently exclaiming at the bloody spectacle.

On the other side of the lake, a first-year gull was having no luck with some young Coots. Their parents had nested in one of the nets put there to protect the reeds, so that their brood was perfectly safe. The gardeners had put extra netting behind the nest in an effort to stop the Coots from chewing up the reeds, but of course the persistent birds had found a way through it at once.

At the Lido restaurant there were raids of a different kind, as Starlings took advantage of the humans eating at outside tables. People shooed them away without much result. I would be happy enough to spare a few cake crumbs to watch these beautiful and agile birds going about their business.