If At First...

I have ignored the Thames Kingfisher for at least a month or two now.  The frustrations of attempting to film him back in the spring are a distant memory and I have recently spotted a natural perch in the river that he seems to be using on a regular basis.  The challenge is always to get as close as possible without alarming the little chap, to get within the range of my camera lens, but at this time of year, hiding away on the riverbank isn't so difficult, as the vegetation on the banks is at its peak.  However, this also means that the nettles and thistles are also at their tallest and most potent.

Crouched beneath my camouflage net and with my folding stool slowly sinking into the mud, I was pleased to see that the little chap alighted on a dead willow tree in the middle of the river.  Disappointingly, though, almost as soon as he had landed, he took flight again.  You might hear my whispered frustration in the footage below.

Perhaps I wasn't as invisible as I believed.  Or maybe, with the river being quite busy at weekends, he was unsettled anyway.  He didn't land here again anyway and, with the threat of showers looming, I decided to retire to a nearby bird hide.  While this is an altogether more comfortable way of watching the wildlife, it also offers only distant views.  Nonetheless, I was pleased to see that the Kingfisher used these quieter pools from which to fish.  Somewhat ironically, he remained completely unmoved by a pair of juvenile fallow deer grazing and scurrying around nearby.  

I wasn't going to get the shots that I wanted, though, so I decided to head to a small nature reserve, which, rather conveniently, is within walking distance of my home.  Unfortunately, this place has the distinct disadvantage of being a favourite haunt of a large proportion of Oxfordshire's dog-walkers, who choose to ignore the "strictly dogs on leads" signs.  Early weekend mornings and mid-mornings during the week, therefore, tend to be the better times to pay a visit.

My visit began unpromisingly, with rain falling almost as soon as I had sat down.  However, the gloom soon lifted when a Kingfisher appeared and immediately began fishing with a quite impressive strike-rate.  I counted at least a dozen dives, from which he emerged with a meal more often than not.  

These were rich pickings indeed and such a contrast with the Thames bird.