Wednesday, 22 February 2017

This is the last picture of the escaped Budgerigar, for she is now back in captivity.

Her owner, who couldn't come to the park, had sent his neighbour with a net and a travelling cage to recapture her. He tried for several hours, only succeeding in making the bird thoroughly wary. Then Jorgen, who has a way with birds, turned up and coaxed her down.  This was probably a good move, as she might not have survived the forecast storm and high winds.

The Coots' nest at the bridge is most unlikely to weather the storm, as it was already rocking perilously in today's moderate wind. It had been decorated with a bit of red plastic, Coots' favourite colour.

Perhaps they will rebuild it afterwards in a more sensible place, though I doubt it.

A Cormorant a few feet away caught a perch.

The Great Crested Grebes at the island have built their nest in a sheltered and stormproof place inside the ring of floating plant baskets, and it is further protected by have boats moored to the posts in front of it. They were displaying on the open water outside after chasing off a neighbour.

A Mute Swan came down on the water near the bridge. As they descend they dangle their feet until their toes touch the water, and only then do they bring their feet into a forward position to waterski to a halt. This is necessary because when the water surface is smooth it's impossible to tell how far away it is.

The Egyptian gosling at the Henry Moore sculpture miraculously survived another night, reaching the impressive age of one week. Although it has grown noticeably, it is far from being out of danger from crows and gulls. Its silly mother was letting it wander all over the place.

The pigeon-killing Lesser Black-Backed Gull (left) and his mate were in their usual hunting ground near the Dell restaurant. They now have their fine breeding plumage, with pure white heads, and were looking very fine. The pigeons were giving them a wide berth.

There are still plenty of Redwings on the Parade Ground.

A Mistle Thrush was singing occasionally near the Serpentine Gallery. There's a resident pair here who nest every year.

A Robin in the Rose Garden perched in a bush whose mauve blossom clashed horribly with it. Undaunted by this, it sang at the top of its voice.

The male Dunnock of the pair by the Lido ticket office sang from the fence of the upper garden.

His mate poked around under the red stems of a bush -- I think it's dogwood.

A Pied Wagtail was sprinting about on the manicured turf of the Diana fountain enclosure.


  1. Good news about the Budgy and her owner. I cannot fathom the pain of imagining that one's beloved bird is going to die of cold or starvation.

    The Egyptian baby is walking like, well, an Egyptian. It only needs a Bangles soundtrack. Let us pray that it will survive the odds.

  2. P.S.: Coots might perfectly serve as fashion designers. They have a better notion of colour coordination, and only slightly more deficient ideas about construction.

    1. Hadn't even noticed that the Egyptian was doing that Bangles thing. Must pay more attention.

      If Coots had the choice of colours everything would be red and shiny silver. Probably
      Symphony Hall in Birmingham was designed by Coots. Very fine, but hardly restful.

    2. good grief, you're right!

    3. Dear me, Coots are like ultrabodies! They walk amongst us, disguised as interior decorators, undetected except for the very savvy.