The tow-path has been been getting greener every morning, as the willows let out their leaves. Most mornings I pass a cormorant, lurching primitively underwater or upriver, the young swans moulting out their gray, and a very dapper domestic/mallard cross, Khaki Campbell body with a glossy green head and a dapper white bib. The four crows that used to hang out by the boat on the bend had their party ruined a bit by new mooring rules, which seem to have introduced an idea not a million miles from parking tickets on boats. As I've started to greet them (they are called Hugin, Munin, Dave and Sue) they're beginning to caw back and come up to say hello as I walk by. I think they have me identified as someone who might, one day, bring them sausage rolls. While I was catching an ex-colleague up with office gossip (busy on the tow-path this morning) an unusual honking and a flash of pink on three geese across the river caught my eye. They took off, flew overhead, and as I was (in some puzzlement) identifying them as Egyptian Geese, twin streaks of electric blue shot across the river; two kingfishers in territorial dispute.