Lindos Revisited

This year's trip to Lindos on the Greek island of Rhodes was a bit later in the year than last, and as a result meant I had missed a lot of the birds nesting, so despite actually making the effort to take my 7D and 100-400mm lens, the apartment complex was sadly lacking in wildlife, at least of the feathered variety. Even the kestrels, which seemed to fly overhead once every 30 seconds or so last year, were noticeably absent. The sparrows, doves and hooded crows were still present at least.

That said, the agama lizards were still abundant and up to their amusing antics, fighting, leaping, sun-bathing and breeding - well at least I assume that was what was going on, as several times we spotted much smaller lizards hitching a ride on the back of larger ones. 

Insects too provided interest with very large swallow-tail like butterflies gliding around, never perching anywhere near for a decent pic.

  

Of particular interest were the huge crickets over there. One afternoon when hanging her towels out to dry on her balcony, my sister spotted a huge insect, and shrieked thinking it was a spider. Her husband came to the rescue, but even with him shaking the table violently, the insect held on! Apparently it required a stick to prise it off! It then relocated to some rocks nearby, where it munched on something for several hours. 

We finally caught up with it again, as it was stuck to a wall of a staircase. I took the opportunity to photograph it, along with something to show the size. After some research (later back home) we think it's a predatory bush cricket. Certainly doesn't look like something you'd want to mess with!

  

With the wheatears not around, I decided I'd need to go find something to photograph, and on Monday morning, got up early and braved both the heat (was 30C in the shade at 8am) and the crowds to head to the Acropolis, where I hoped to photograph the kestrels nesting on the cliffs behind the ancient building. If only I'd asked a local before trying. Walked all the way up the hill to find it is closed on a Monday. D'oh!! 

Rather than waste the trip, I followed the path around the back, and found a wooden viewing platform, where I could photo the kestrels, albeit from beneath them. Got good views of course, but it wasn't the angle I was after. 

Further down towards the sea I did find a pair of black-eared wheatears, but they were as flighty as the UK birds, and wouldn't let me anywhere near. So I took a few scenic shots and yet more lizards! 

Tuesday brought masses of coaches, and took me once more, to the Acropolis. This time it was open, and after queueing for a while, I escaped the crowds and found a spot by the wall at the cliff-top, where I could see the kestrels flying around underneath. I think they were mostly lesser kestrels, but the females and juvenile birds seem to be remarkably similar to normal kestrels in their markings.

The males were clear though, with their clean colours, and on that sunny, hot morning, with the blue sky and sea beneath, it was heavenly to photo them as they zoomed to and from the cliffs, catching thermals, stooping to grab unwary insects, and occasionally having mid-air scuffles.

Sweat was a problem though, and made gripping the camera and lens quite tricky. And the inevitable heat haze off the cliffs affected focusing too, but to be there, with such breathtaking views and to be able to watch these fabulous birds of prey flying at eye-level with you was something quite special. Definitely worth the hike up there!

Occasionally, the juveniles would even choose to land nearby, allowing for much closer shots. That said, I missed several shots when the birds flew too close to focus on! You could definitely see them taking a look at me as they cruised past.

Eventually the heat got the better of me (I was told it was reaching 47C in the sunshine during the middle of the day) and for someone fair-skinned like me, it wasn't wise to be stood in the open at the top of a hill! The coolness of the pool and an iced glass of lager tempted me away, but not before I'd filled a card on these kestrels.

The next day I had planned to walk to the cliffs where the Guns Of Navarone had been filmed. However, by then not only was it staggeringly hot, but the humidity was extremely high too, and just walking half a mile nearly killed me. The cliffs would require a decent hike, and I just couldn't be bothered! So I headed to the bottom of the cliffs of the Acropolis, behind St Paul's Bay.

I tried in vain to photograph the Alpine swifts, but they stayed way too high, and the crag martins, while lower down (at head height) were so fast, it was nigh on impossible to focus, especially with sweaty hands again. That's my excuse anyway!

A few more close encounters with juvenile kestrels provided more images, but a beautiful bird song caught my attention. Wandering round the rocks, I spotted a blue rock thrush. I managed a couple of shots before it flew off, this time getting a bit better end-results than last year. Lovely looking birds.

By lunchtime, not only was my stomach reminding me it needed filling, but the heat and humidity was making it feel like being in a sauna. Even the breeze was hot. Back to the pool for cooling off, and one of their delicious egg & bacon baps (I know, not exactly Greek cuisine!).

The remainder of the break was spend relaxing and not lugging the camera bag around. And wondering if we'd get any aftershocks after experiencing a decent earthquake at the start of the break. Dad and I felt our chairs wobbling whilst sat on the balcony (I wondered if I'd had too much pop the night before for a moment) and we later found out that it had been centred just off the coast at Rhodes town, measuring about 6 on the Richter Scale.

We did see a few other different species of birds, including a crested lark (I think), a red-legged partridge (or maybe a rock partridge, though I am not sure we were in the right habitat) and on the last day, a family of ravens, cronking loudly to each other (and flying open-beaked to keep cool), echoing off the cliffs. The little owls were also around, though only late in the day, when the sun was behind them, and the peregrines stayed very high up. No sign of the long-legged buzzards or the falcons sadly.

As with the previous year, the break wasn't for wildlife photography, but once again, it provided a few decent opportunities to do so, and I was glad I'd made the effort to take better gear this time.

Lovely Jubilee...

As normal, the (extended Jubilee) Bank Holiday weekend brought miserable weather and only the presence of a wood sandpiper, a bird I've not photographed for years, tempted me out of the shelter of my house to the Flashes at Upton Warren for a look. June, and I was cold, despite wearing 3 layers and a woolly hat, and the driving rain made looking out of the windows of the new hide rather unpleasant. Even the upper tier was chilly - I think I might have developed hypothermia downstairs after too long. 

Thankfully the sandpiper kindly flew close to the hide after a short wait, and I was able to get some reasonable images as it fed in the closest channel. The view from downstairs would have been preferable, but the grass is a bit long now for a clear shot (hardly surprising after all this rain). 

 

When a family of mallards spooked the bird further off, I didn't need to think hard about returning home!

The Bank Holiday Monday proved to be better in terms of weather, with sunnier spells promised and only the odd shower. I had planned for a very early start, but after a mammoth shift for work over Thursday and Friday, the alarm at 5am was met with a loud grumble and duly ignored. I eventually dragged myself out of bed when I spotted some sunshine, and after chatting to Ian about one of his favourite haunts in Lincolnshire, I was soon driving east, pretty much on the same route I use to head to Norfolk.

Ian couldn't meet me until later, so I had a look around the area. Plenty of birds, with common terns following the waterways, great crested grebes fishing below them and large numbers of swans gliding gracefully by. The skies were full of swallows, martins and swifts, with the occasional hobby thrown in for good measure. The fields were alive with the song of buntings and larks, and any pathways winding through the crops were being used by pheasants, red-legged and grey partridges and annoyingly distant hares.

The first bird that caught my camera's attention was a hovering kestrel. As though it had been glued to the sky, it remained fixed in place, looking down into the grasses below, wings flapping furiously. The light was a bit difficult, but with somewhere to park nearby, I managed some full frame shots of it in action.

Singing from the tops of the bushes were yellow wagtails. Being windy though (the weather, not the birds), it made getting a shot trickier, but they're such a vibrant delight to see, and they have quite a song too.

There seemed to be kestrels all over the place, and I managed a quick shot or two of one perched near the road, before a passing car scared it off.

With all these kestrels around, you'd think there might be owls. Well, yes, and this is why I had come all this way. You see Ian comes here for shots of barn owls, and despite having numerous shots of them in flight, I was yet to get anything remotely decent of one perched up. When Ian arrived, he quickly pointed out the nesting locations of several pairs of barn owls, and we simply then had to watch and wait. By late afternoon, we were beginning to wonder if they weren't going to play ball, but while I was off driving around, Ian spotted one flying alongside the waterway, but it vanished from sight before a shot could be taken.

I arrived back but before I could get annoyed at missing one, I saw another, hunting over the fields. Fantastic. It didn't come close though, and headed away over the crops and towards the roads behind. As I was still sat in the car, I chose to blast over that way and hope. Got to where it had been, but nothing. Turned around and was about to return when up it burst from beside the road, flying off away from me, along the verge until it reached a road sign, where it chose to perch up.

Ok, it's not exactly the picture-perfect posing perch, but beggars can't be choosers, and I parked up as close as I dared to get some shots. It didn't move, so I approached a bit more. Still didn't go, and for once, there were no cars to prevent me getting a shot.

A kestrel however, spoiled the show and chased the owl off, across fields where I couldn't follow.

Ah well, back to Ian again. Still no action by him, so off I went again. Further down the road I found another pair, but they just wouldn't perch close, and repeatedly flew out of sight across the water. Then a text came through. "Got one on a post". Was I too late? A hastily executed 3-point turn and I was hurrying back to where I'd left Ian. Slowing down as I spotted his car, I caught sight of a gorgeous barn owl, as stated, sat on a post not far from the road.

Before I could get a shot though, you've guessed it. It moved off. Ian quickly pointed out that if we were careful, chances are, it would find another perch close by, and he was proved correct, as it settled on another post slightly further along the edge of the field. This time I did manage to get set up and finally took some shots of one of these wonderful, ghostly owls, sat still.

With its acute hearing the owl frequently looked up at what was making the clicking sound, giving me great views of its heart-shaped face.

Movement beneath the post seemed to interest it, and it would often bob its head around and peer downwards. Eventually, it turned its back to me, showing off those wonderfully marked feathers, before it took off, and headed back to its roost nearby.

By then though, I had taken a fair few shots and was grinning rather a lot. Which in turn made Ian laugh, though he was already smiling from photographing the same owl. Superb!

We saw several more owls over the following hour or so, including ones hunting near us, but they never landed so close again, and when the light blossomed to that gorgeous evening glow, none were to be seen whatsoever! It was getting late and we had to drag ourselves away, though the drive home was brightened by a flyover from another barnie, out hunting near the route home!

Tuesday was back to the gloom of wet and windy weather, and I spent a few hours trying to get shots of swifts over the Moors Pool. Managed one half decent shot (using the 7D and 100-400mm) playing with varying focal modes. And witnessed a hobby swoop to try to take a sedge warbler in front of the hide, but it missed.

More rain arrived and removed what little light was available, and I abandoned the day in favour of a warm cuppa and some home comforts.

Elated At Elan

After the wettest April on record and several recent trips out nearly ending with frostbite, I was keen to get myself and Dad out of the house to enjoy some of the warm sunshine that had finally arrived in May. With all the travelling around the UK I do, I take for granted sightings of birds like the red kite so was quite surprised when I realised that Dad hadn't had any sort of decent views of one. 

With this in mind, I made plans for a trip into Wales. I had hoped to combine the trip with a stop off to see a cream-coloured courser that was quite appropriately being seen on a golf course on Bradnor Hill, but the day before we were going, it chose to depart and wasn't seen again. A little annoying, but I had half expected it to and it allowed me to focus on the main trip and not potentially spend most of it chasing a birdie around a green. Much like my normal golfing game! 

Having woken to glorious sunshine all week, Thursday morning was typically cloudy and I did wonder if I had managed to choose the only rubbish day of the week, but driving over the hills of Radnorshire brought us into the sunshine and it was cloudless when we parked up in Gilfach Farm. First target being pied flycatchers and redstarts. 

Didn't take long to see a pied flycatcher with a rather splendid male dropping down to feed on the free meal worms laid out. The female was also around, and took her share of the worms whenever the feeding area wasn't being emptied by a rather greedy female blackbird. As well as her, there were several blue and great tits around, a couple of nuthatches and higher up in the tree canopy, small flocks of siskins and redpolls fluttered by. 

Through the trees, down into the valley revealed occasional glimpses of red kites, out hunting in the morning sunshine. They look fantastic when you can look down at them below. Their calls were somewhat drowned out by the guttural cronking ravens nearby and the more spring-like cuckoo, from several individuals in the area. 

While standing in the courtyard is nice, it is also rather warm, so we opted to relocate down the hill in to the coolness of the Otter Hide. From here, we could see the nestboxes occupied by pied flycatchers and also a blue tit family. The female pied flycatcher seemed to be enjoying the warmth of the sun, so we helped ourselves to numerous shots as she sat still. 

A shrill call alerted me to the presence of a dipper on the stream - another first for Dad, though it didn't hang around long enough for any really decent shots. 

No sign of any otters though, nor of any redstarts, so we headed out of the farm and parked up on the roadside in the valley for lunch. A brief fly-by from a cuckoo had me scrambling for my kit (out of reach) but it never returned, and I drove Dad over to Gigrin for the 3pm show. 

As usual, I took a quick look around the farm and found a spotted flycatcher, but its face was obscured by a branch, so no pics. Dad was already intrigued by the kites that were circling, and was trying to get shots even before the feeding began. Not bothering with one of the expensive hides, we chose one in the middle area and waited for the farmer's tractor to roll out, and the beef to be shovelled on to the field. 

Now I've seen the spectacle several times, so know what to expect, but I know Dad was amazed at the sight of all the kites swooping down to feed. The size of the birds, their agility, their calls and sheer numbers is incredible really. 

I was supposed to be trying for shots of ravens but as usual was distracted. Initially by buzzards. 

But then by Leucistic red kites. Two of them, and they really stood out from the crowd. They appeared slightly smaller, and were subjected to mobbing from the others. 

One had those awful wing tags on, but luckily the other was clean, and it was fabulous to watch and photograph. They waited for the first wave of kites to feed, and then took what was left, before the younger generation arrived for the scraps. 

As usual, I had my 100-400mm lens with me, and it was so much easier to wield around for flight shots. 

After 45 mins or so, Dad's arms were feeling the effects of chasing kites around the blue skies, and we retired to the farm for an ice-lolly, and planned the next move. 

My target for the day had been whinchats, so we headed into the Elan Valley itself for a look. Dave Hutton had mentioned the Claerwan Valley as being a possible location for them and he was dead right. Took a bit of searching, but their calls gave them away and occasionally they'd perch up out of the grasses. 

Annoyingly, they kept their distance and the sun by now was in the wrong direction to get shots from the car easily. I tried down by the river, but my luck just wasn't in, and I only managed the sort of record shot I had before, on Long Mynd. It was late, we were both tired and opted to head home for a pint and pub meal. 

Dad had loved the day out, as had I, but I'd failed to get my target (properly), and wanted to try again. So, at ridiculous o'clock on Saturday morning, I was up, and by 7:30am, I was parking up at Gilfach again. I know, I wanted whinchats, but I also wanted to try for the cuckoos. Dad would never get up so early, so I was alone for the drive in, but had arranged to meet Dave for the day. He soon rolled up, but with no cuckoos even calling, we headed to the courtyard. 

 Unlike before, the pied flycatchers weren't coming down too often, and it was only the nuthatches providing interest, though Mrs Blackbird was still taking all the worms when she could! Down at the Otter Hide, the pied flycatchers were also proving harder to get, though a little patience was rewarded with the female perching up pretty close. 

I caught up with the male on the hillside, whilst listening out for cuckoos, which slowly came down along the valley to land on the trees nearby. Cuckoos are flighty though, and despite our best attempts, we couldn't creep close enough for anything decent, nor second-guess where they might choose to perch next. 

In chasing the cuckoos, I spotted a small bird nearby. A whinchat!! Dave was soon "on it" too, and we tried to get some images, but with my usual luck in play, the male remained partially hidden by shrubs, and flew off before we could get a clearer view. 

With the heat of the day increasing, I suggested relocating to Claerwan, in hope of catching some whinchats there but unlike Thursday which had been calm, it was now very breezy and all the birds I'd seen were now much further off, and not generally perching on the gorse. We spotted other birds like sand martins, a redstart, wheatears, more ravens and loads of pipits, but no luck with what we were after. 

Back to Gilfach, Dave switched to chasing insects and got some of the beautiful damoiselles he was after. I got sunburnt, waiting for a cuckoo to approach, which it failed to do. With the birds sheltering from the heat, Dave had had enough, and chose to head back home. But I wanted to spend the day in the area and decided to go for a proper drive around the Elan Valley. 

I actually managed to get some scenic shots of an overflowing dam, which I've been after for ages. It was nice to stand watching the water cascade over the stonework and be cooled by the spray coming off it. 

But the scene was popular, and I felt compelled to move on to let others park up to admire it. Besides, I wanted to see whinchats. 

I suppose it's experience and maybe a bit of luck, but I have started to spot locations as I drive around, which look promising, and seeing such a spot tempted me to park up for a look around. Didn't need my binoculars for what was sat on the fence across the road. A pristine looking male whinchat. 

What a find, and what a bird. In the bright afternoon sunshine he glowed with his brick red chest and striking eye stripes. 

With the traffic and strengthening breeze, he was soon moved off, but I waited and hoped. And he returned several times. 

Each time, I took as many shots as I could, while he posed on posts and the wire. After all my bad luck with this species, this was like winning the lottery. Fantastic. 

There was a female around too, though she kept to the longer grasses mainly and was closely watched over by the male. With the wind direction as it was, he didn't often face me, but for a few seconds he did and showed off how gorgeous he was. 

Eventually, he seemed to favour the area further towards the lake - maybe from the increased traffic going by, or maybe the female liked that area more. By then I had filled my card, and knowing how late it was and how windy the road home was, I chose to head back. 

Target bird of whinchat, ticked very firmly off the list.

Fun At The Flashes

One of my "bogey" birds is the red-necked phalarope, and if you've read my blog since it started, you'll know I only got a very distant view of one on Uist and then failed to see any at all on Shetland (Fetlar). So when one dropped into Upton Warren's Flashes, I was keen to get over, and set about making plans to get out of work early to see it. 

The original message came as I was getting up but after being in work for about half an hour, the dreaded message came through, that the phalarope had been taken by a peregrine. I could have screamed, but before I could fill my lungs, another message pinged up, false alarm. So my plans were still on, and after clocking off at lunch, I was soon picking up Dad, so he might also try for the rarity. 

It didn't start well, with me being hailed on as I collected my gear, and then driving through a storm, with rain, more hail and sleet, battering against the windscreen as I drove to the reserve. I should have guessed that this would be an omen. Scuttling down to the hide, I opted for the dungeon and was met with familiar faces; Rob and Bob were in there, and it became clear quickly that the phalarope wasn't one for coming close. Damn! 

It seemed to like feeding right at the back, and as such, my shots could have been mistaken for dust bunnies on the sensor! Not what I had hoped for. 

Bored, I resorted to taking photos of the other rarity on site, a little gull. Not bad for a gull, but no phalarope... 

Eventually, the phalarope dared to come a bit closer, but just as we hoped for something resembling just a record shot, down came the peregrine once more, and took a small wader. 

No sign of the phalarope afterwards, and we all examined shots of the prey being carried off. Rob had a shot with the side of the bird's head shown, and we worked out it must have been a dunlin, from the shape of the beak. The second poor dunlin of the day, as it turned out. Most of the remaining dunlins took flight with the phalarope, and despite my disappointment of yet again failing to get a decent shot, I was glad it had survived to annoy me for another day. 

The following Saturday I was pencilled in for helping the Trust with a Beginners' Birding Day, which was amusing, albeit rather cold. I was camped out in the lower part of the hide again, and helped locate and ID some of the birds. 

The punters were lucky in a way, as some rarer species put in a show, with a yellow wagtail, dunlin, ringed plover and the apparently settled little gull, all made several appearances, and a nesting sedge warbler, who kindly posed on a nearby bush, made one lady's day. 

The ringed plover and little ringed plover didn't seem to get along, and had a couple of fights, which was rather amusing, given the size difference. 

The light was pretty dire though, so no special images taken, though we all had a good laugh throughout the day, munched free choccie biccies (always a result!) and hopefully inspired / encouraged a few new folks to submerge themselves in the wonderful world of wildlife.

Somerset Levels

About this time of year I try to find any excuse to get down to the Somerset Levels to catch up with some of the resident and migrant species, and to put it simply, have a lovely walk in the sunshine. The latter of course has been in short supply lately, so with a sunny weekend forecast, I found myself parking up at Ashcott Corner at 7:45am, to make as much of the day as possible. 

As I opened the car door I immediately heard the call of a cuckoo, and then seconds later, the deep, resonating boom of a bittern. The cuckoo was flying around the trees at the back of the boardwalk, behind the car park, but recent rains had meant the walk itself was closed due to flooding, so I took my usual favoured choice of heading to RSPB Ham Wall first. 

The pools were bathed in morning sunshine and coots, moorhens, pochards, tufted-ducks and great-crested grebes went about their business, some still building or maintaining nests, others leading their young proudly around the edges of the reed beds, and of course the coots found something to argue over! This was all set to the strange and rather amusing chorus of the marsh frogs. 

Up above, swifts, swallows and martins chased the flying insects, of which there were a few swarms, as usual attracted to me like flies around erm, let's not finish that line! Sharing the skies were one of my target birds, hobbies. Initially there was only one out hunting, but as the morning temperatures rose, numbers increased to maybe 8 or 10 of these fantastic, agile birds of prey. 

I set the tripod up and tried to get any shots as they came close enough, which was a rarity sadly, though I'm used to this, after spending hours watching and waiting for them at spots like Exminster Marshes over the years. Regardless of success rate, just watching them was great. 

Eventually, my neck got tired of being craned backwards and I thought it was time to wander over to Shapwick Heath. While the bitterns at Ham Wall were booming, they were rarely flying - in fact I only got to see one flying, and that was too low to focus on, skimming the tops of the reeds. Maybe I'd see more on the other side. 

Across the waterway in one of the lagoons were a few godwits and what looked to be a little egret springing around after food, in a rather camp manner. But by now the heat haze made anything that far off pointless photographing, so I continued towards the hides, where I could sit down for a bit and munch my sandwiches. 

Just before the bridge, I happened to bump into a friend who had also made the trip down there, albeit even earlier than me (and I thought I was mad!), who then informed me that had I gone into Shapwick Heath first, I'd have surely seen a glossy ibis and seven common cranes. Unlike me though, she was chasing invertebrates, although coincidentally on a route that took her from one cake shop to another! Maybe I should plan my walks better, to end up at a pub?! 

Just as I was starting to regret my earlier decision, a cry from behind us of "CRANES!!" grabbed our attention, and a glance skywards revealed a pair, miles up, circling on the thermals, calling out. They were a bit easier to follow than the hobbies, but so very high up, and were soon joined by a further three. I have to admit, their call is rather haunting, in a nice way. 

As they disappeared off into the distance, the lure of cakes was obviously too much, and I was left to head to the hides on my own once more, and my luck continued to improve as I entered the hide to be told I'd missed a bittern right in front, by about 3 minutes. With the hide full, I wandered out again and over to the other one, which was empty and I could eat and peer out in peace. The view of the Tor was fantastic - lovely to see it lit up by the afternoon sunshine. Aside from a flying bittern at distance and a few more hobbies, the view was a bit barren, and I decided to head elsewhere. 

A squacco heron had been seen and photographed nearby at a place called Blagdon Lake, but details of exactly where to go were sketchy, and I ended up at the wrong end of the lake, asking locals where to go. Apparently I needed a permit, but there were loads of people down there and they'd know what to do, I was informed. I eventually found the small crowd, and was immediately put on to the heron, which was creeping around the edge of the lake, amongst wild flowers and tall grass, making it tricky to get a clear shot. 

It was an usual looking bird, with warm sand-coloured feathers, and a crop of longer ones off the back of its head, much like an egret. 

I had only been there for maybe 10 minutes when the warden arrived, and after admitting I didn't have the permit he was asking to see, he said I could get one from Chew Valley Lake, but then realised I was too late for that and asked me to leave. He did preach to me about checking details on the internet first, but all I'd seen was "Follow on-site instructions". The only on-site instructions I heard (or seen) were "You're trespassing, I'll have to ask you to leave!" Ah well, I had some shots, which was the main thing. I do think they're missing a trick though, by not selling passes to people on site, like places such as Upton Warren. So I upped sticks and left. 

A kind couple who had chatted to me at Blagdon had told me of a spot with a barn owl, so while I considered heading back, I diverted to this spot instead. The barn owl was sat quite far off in a tree outside its box, but another helpful birder put me on to a dunlin, right on the edge of the lake. 

After that was scared off by a loony driver blasting by at ridiculous speeds, I waited for the owl to do something... it didn't. May as well have been stuffed! With a 90 minute drive home and sore eyes after a long day in the sun and breeze, I chose to head back. Another fine day in Somerset which as usual left me wanting more.

Fabulous Foxes

Those of you who follow this blog will surely have read about the foxes I failed to get any footage of recently, due to a camera setting issue. Since then, I have been keeping an eye on the garden each evening in the hope of seeing them again to try for some shots. But I wasn't expecting to spot them on a Friday morning, as I got ready for work! 

As before, there were four cubs, though one seemed less inclined to join in and the mother, a vixen whose tail seemed to have lost a fair amount of fur since the last sighting. The light wasn't great so I dialled in 1600 ISO and opened the 100-400mm up wide, and started to try for some shots out of the bedroom window. 

It was challenging to do, as part of me simply wanted to watch them play, and did they ever! They were chasing each other, round and round flower beds, diving into the shrubs, bursting out and leaping with that limitless energy of youth. 

Mostly mum watched over them, occasionally following them when they vanished from sight, and stepped in when the play fights seemed to be perhaps getting out of hand. 

Then she decided to join in and chased her youngsters around the lawns at amazing speed, changing direction in an instant, easily catching up when she chose to. I have to admit I lost track of time and was late for work as a result, having to drag myself away from the action. 

Urban foxes get bad press for isolated incidents, but you would have to be very cold not to have smiled at their antics, and at how adorable the cubs were. 

I know they will face dangers from traffic, litter and other wildlife in their futures, but for that hour or so when they were in my garden, they seemed to be having the time of their lives, and I was very grateful to have watched them.