The woods of Richmond Park were full of Jackdaws, constantly jostling for whatever position Jackdaws have in their noisy gangs. And the even noisier squawkings and screeches of the Ring-Necked Parakeets, of course, high in the trees or dashing about.

Out on the quieter grassland and bracken, now dry and brown, a Stonechat perched on a prominent lookout, its red breast, white collar and dark head distinctive.

A Kestrel drifted past, tail fanned, its handsome rufous back and dark wingtips characteristic; it turned and powered the other way, flew all across the open space over the anthilly grassland, and rose into a distant tree.

The upper Pen Pond had at least 6 Mandarin Ducks, the males ridiculously decorative, dressed like dandies and constantly showing off, alongside a few Pochard.

The lower Pen Pond had perhaps 30 Gadwall, a dozen Wigeon, a few Tufted Duck, and – best bird by far – a single Snipe that got up from the water’s edge near my feet, called ‘Creech’ once, and zigzagged rapidly off across the water, up and over the trees and the upper pond.