I thought Day 3 might be a problem. I had a meeting in central London which I knew would take out the middle of the day. So as I walked to the station I was wondering what I could use as a focus. Above me in the trees there was much inelegant stomping about from, I think,  a young magpie, and a blackbird screaming warnings. And then, out of the corner of my eye, a flash of white, below the level of the path. From the stream. The stream in which I had previously seen a little egret.  I turned back and hoped for more, but was  too heavy footed and disturbed the bird. As a consequence, I had a perfect view of its flight along the path of the stream, yellow feet stretched out behind.  I had, inevitably, decided not to take the camera, as I was off to a meeting – and would probably not have been quick enough to capture it anyway – but it was a wonderful image, which sent me on my way with a real spring in my step.

(And a song in my heart. I spent much of the journey singing ‘Wild Thing, you make my heart sing’ to myself – in my head, I hasten to add. The Troggs, 1966, for those too young to recognise the reference).

As I came back from the station, several hours later, I was sure the egret would be gone: but caught another glimpse beneath the bushes. I headed home for the camera, telling myself that it would definitely be gone by the time I got back. And when I looked again in the same place it was, indeed, gone. So I took a consolation snap of the empty water.

But the stream reappears on the other side of the road….And there it was.

So I went for something slightly less grainy:

And one more for luck:

Now, I do know that little egrets are no longer in any sense a rarity. But this is about the suburbs. The suburbs! And those yellow feet have really made my day.