Kingfisher Territory Pictorial

I walked this morning, rather than ran. Somehow, I felt I needed a more relaxed start to the day, although in what felt like spring temperatures, I had soon worked up a sweat merely by employing shanks' pony.

I was down on the cycle path, thinking that a slow plod rather than a run would give me the best chance to see our new resident kingfisher. However, of neon blue flashes above the water there were none. Instead, I contented myself with watching the antics of a great crested grebe, still a handsome bird out of breeding plumage, and the comedy footed coots and moorhens spindling about the undergrowth at the water's edge.

Past the Clay Lane bridge, a flock of greenfinches crashed through the trees, while wrens and dunnocks operated at ground level. The sun made feeble attempts to peek through the humid cloud, failing every time. The wind funnelled down the track, making the bright yellow gorse flowers tremble.

All seemed good with the world.

London Road bridge. This is where I'm seeing the kingfisher at the moment

Reverse view from same spot

The lakeside drain

Owl box. Nobody home

Don't let your dog dive in the lake.

Female blackbird

Coot on land

Coot on water

Algae

The secret pond, under Beacon Hill bridge

Gorse in flower

At the marina, man angles not for swans

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