I hadn't been to the Wolseley Centre for a while, so when British Gas had finished my annual check-up, I set off in search of the kingfishers.
Ducklings and goslings abound - cute Canada Geese, if there is such a thing.
One of the swans is sitting on a nest of two big eggs. The terrapin is still on his log (you wonder if he's real). Chaffinches and Great tits were feeding in the sunshine.
But we all go to catch the flash of blue - the elusive glimpse of the kingfisher.
Someone said he'd been around. We chatted, moaning about the increase in geese numbers on the top of the bank, reminiscing about previous sightings.
And then somebody spotted him. He'd been seen earlier so we had hung around. We were to be lucky. He flew down, balanced on the reeds (I got one shot where I think he had either a fish or a piece of straw but it wasn't very clear). He stayed for a while - then headed off.
