Bushy Park, London

  • February 26, 2017 7:33 pm

A squadron of green arrows cuts through the blue of the sky, noisy screeches rain down from these lime feathered parakeets. It seems so exotic, and we gawp in touristy awe, but there’s a delight in seeing a parrot fly free when previously I’ve only ever seen them caged. No, I’m not on a foreign holiday, though it suddenly feels like it, we are in our capital city, visiting my lovely brother-in-law, who kindly takes us to visit Bushy Park. I’ve never seen (or heard!) so many parakeets before, but they are surprisingly camera shy, apart from the odd group flying over in formation, they stick to the treetops, patrolling the upper branches.

Our first stop is the lake, where many people feed the ducks, and in amoungst the Mallards we also find some Red-crested Pochard, a handsome, if non-native duck with a striking russet crest, and a brilliant red bill.

Red-crested pochard, Netta rufina, Bushy Park, London

There are Tufted ducks too, lovely little ducks, black and white at first glance, but with a gorgeous purple sheen in the right light.

Tufted duck, Aythya fuligula, male, Bushy Park, London

Keeping the waterfowl company were lots of Black-headed gulls, some of them already starting to gain their breeding plumage in the warmth of the city.

Black-headed gull Chroicocephalus ridibundus, perched on wooden post Bushy Park, London

The park is well known for its herds of Red and Fallow deer, and we quickly spot two Fallow bucks casually strolling down the path. Although very used to people, these deer have a wildness about them, they are not friendly like the Sika deer we saw in Nara, Japan. We remain at a wary distance, although other people attempt to get closer, alarmingly so as one parent attempts to introduce their young child to a huge Red deer stag, still with full antlers. The deer continues to graze, but a little shake of the head is enough to make the people retreat to a more sensible distance. The deer are wary too, a loose French bulldog sends one of the Fallow bucks pronking away into the bracken with tail raised, wild instinct remembering the wolf.

It’s lovely too see and study them this closely though, deer of all species have a very majestic air about them, especially the handsome Reds.

Red deer, Cervus elaphus, stag, male, close up, Bushy Park, London,


Red deer, Cervus elaphus, stag, male, close up, Bushy Park, London,

The Fallow deer are smaller with palmate, flattened antlers. We later found the rest of the Fallow herd, as the light was fading, which contained white coated animals, as well as individuals that were almost black, the Fallow deer being highly variable in colour. These two bucks were clearly used to posing for people!

Fallow deer, Dama dama, buck, male, backlit in evening light, Bushy Park, London.

Fallow deer, Dama dama, buck, male, two in evening light, Bushy Park, London.

Fallow deer, Dama dama, buck, male, backlit in evening light, Bushy Park, London.

It was inspiring to visit a slice of the wild in the middle of the city, were it not for the hum of traffic, you could easily have been in the middle of the countryside. Good too, to see so many people out and enjoying it, a very special place.


(Click images to view larger…)

If you like what you see, please consider sharing!

UK & Eire Natural History Bloggers

Follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DawnMonroseNaturePhotography

Not Otters

  • March 12, 2013 9:38 pm

Sometimes you can try too hard. My lovely boss let me have the day off (thanks!) and to make the most of every minute, and hoping to avoid other photographers, I was out at first light – first car in the car park.  Nothing doing. Retracing my steps up and down the rivers, still nothing. I did find some other wildlife though.

Mallard, Anas platyrhynchos, male, drake, on water in golden sunlight, Norfolk,

Muntjac deer, Muntiacus reevesi, in undergrowth, Norfolk

Egyptian Goose, Alopochen aegyptiacus, resting on river bank, Norfolk

 At 8.30am a trio of photographers arrived, and then a few more followed. I could read their minds before they opened their mouths to speak – are they here, have you seen them? I set off in the opposite direction but a photographer hurried past – ‘if you’re interested the otters have been seen further down’. I hesitated, do I join the crowd, or stay here with nothing to photograph. I followed along, after all, there weren’t as many people as last time. Arriving on scene I see a tail slide into the river, and a head pops up. The two youngsters are hunting, one catches a large fish and takes it into the undergrowth to eat. The other photographers follow their progress up and down the river, but I hang back. I dislike this chasing them up and down, it doesn’t feel right photographing like this, so I turn away. This is incredibly frustrating.

Despite the chill in the air and frost on the ground, in the sun it actually feels quite spring-like. Siskins are feeding in the alders by the river, Marsh tit’s are singing, somewhere close by a Green Woodpecker laughs. I sit for a while next to the fast flowing river, it’s so peaceful here, you wouldn’t believe you were so close to a town.

Jay, Garrulus glandarius, perched in tree in sunlight, Norfolk

Treecreeper, Certhia familiaris, Norfolk

Mallard, Anas platyrhynchos, female, on water in golden sunlight, Norfolk,

I head home, and return later in the afternoon. Walking slowly along to where I last saw them, but there’s nothing around. I retrace my steps for the umpteenth time. Again I meet another photographer who informs me there’s an otter heading this way. Again I hesitate, but I follow anyway walking back the way I came, this might be my last day off  for some time, I have to make the most of it.  They set up, and I move away and find my own spot. There’s a Kingfisher on the far side of the bank, a shining blue jewel of a bird. I watch him for a while, but suddenly the water swirls in front of me, could it be? A few bubbles pop up, then a broad whiskered head appears by the bank before disappearing again, rolling away. This time there’s no splashing, this is one of the adults, she moves from land to water with fluid ease, silently hunting. She bobs up again and glances at me, and there it is, that amazing moment, just the otter and me.

She moves off  back the way she came, and some friendly locals encourage me over and point her out. Everyone I spoke to today were so enthusiastic about these creatures, they are so proud to have them here, and lots of people were keen to share what they knew, where they’d seen them before and describe their amazing encounters. The other photographers invited me closer, and I gratefully accepted. This is much more civilised than at the weekend, everyone keeping their distance, waiting for the otter to come to them. I set up hoping she would come up the bank for some photos with a reasonably clean background. Instead she headed straight for me, too fast for me to track her, and too close to focus. She peered curiously at me, ‘hunfff’ she snuffled. My research suggests this means ‘I smell you’ – I know you’re there. I imitate and she looks at me, we repeat and she’s now just a couple of feet away. I just can’t believe it, an absolutely incredible experience. I haven’t got any decent photos, but right now it doesn’t matter. I’m sure I’ll be back to try again.

European otter, lutra lutra, on river bank under bridge, Norfolk,

A big thank you to the lovely friendly photographers I met today, thank you for not only your help, but for restoring my faith in human-kind!

(Click images to view larger…)

If you like what you see, please consider sharing!

UK & Eire Natural History Bloggers

Urban Otters

  • March 2, 2013 6:46 pm

For some weeks now, I’ve seen reports and amazing photographs of Otters in a town not too far away from me. Finally, I could no longer resist such a fantastic opportunity, and today I set out to find them. The Otter is an iconic mammal, shy and elusive, gracing our rivers once again after many years of persecution. But these guys are the new kids on the block, bold as brass, with attitude and charm in equal measure, they’ve swum their way into our urban environs.

Walking along the river footpath, I have a moment of uncertainty about the direction of the trail, when suddenly there’s a great big splash. Peering through the bushes I glimpse my first wild urban Otter, incredible. I see her shake out her coat and then dive right back in with another splosh of water. A photographer comes round the corner hurrying and struggling through the undergrowth trying to keep up. My senses come back to me and I hasten away from the action, they’re heading downstream and I’m already ahead of them, so I circle round a bend in the river and set up and wait.

European Otter, lutra lutra

What happened next, I could never have predicted. Many gardens back onto the river, and at the edge of this particular garden there were a group of chickens scratching through the leaves on the riverbank. The opportunistic Otters didn’t miss a trick, and leapt from the water onto the bank and gave chase, there was a lot of clucking as the panicking birds scattered out of the way of the Otter, as he pursued them back and forth. Cleverly, he slipped back into the water. One of the hens froze in fear, caught between the wrong side of the fence and the river and unable to see the predator, a fatal mistake. The Otter came silently and swiftly, propelled from the river by wide paws and thick tail, two bounds and he caught the hapless hen, who barely had time to react. Squealing and flapping hard she nearly broke free in a cloud of feathers, but the Otter dragged her to the water where she finally met her end.

European Otter, lutra lutra

An astonishing thing to witness, nature red in tooth and claw. A fine meal for the two Otters, but not so pleasant for the chicken’s unfortunate owner. Hopefully, with their preferred diet of fish, this isn’t a scene repeated too often.

The Otters were totally unconcerned by the human onlookers, and as more people joined the group they ate their fill, then had a swim and paused to dry off their fur and rest.

European Otter, lutra lutra

But that’s the only thing that spoils this for me. To my left, twelve cameras all set to ‘machine-gun-fire’, a barrage of shutter noise whenever the Otter moves. Call me a purist, but this isn’t wildlife photography. Not one of them is watching their back, thinking of wind-direction or stealth. For me, that’s wildlife photography at it’s best – watching and photographing an animal without it knowing you are there, and creating images different to anyone else. It’s not the Otter’s fault, they’re a modern mammal, adapting to the increasing urbanisation of their natural home. Perhaps I ought to get with the times too. But it’s great to see so many people taking an interest in our wildlife, it needs as many protectors and supporters as it can get. The Otter’s are unfazed by the attention, but I’ll be back at a quieter time.

Posing for the cameras…

European Otter, lutra lutra


Domestic chicken

Is it safe to come down yet?
(Click images to view larger…)

If you like what you see, please consider sharing!

UK & Eire Natural History Bloggers


Get every new post on this blog delivered to your Inbox.

Join other followers: