After spending such a long time at close quarters with one chick, then briefly seeing the second, I was hoping for more of the same the next day. But that wasn’t to be. I spent six hours on the river bank and never once got a kingfisher in my camera’s viewfinder. There was plenty of coming and going at the Glapthorn Brook end and lots of calling. Adults flew in carrying fish, sometimes only 10 minutes apart, so both chicks were being fed. At one point the chicks chased each other along the river too, but there was never any chance of a photo. It was fascinating to watch but just too fast to react to.
I walked through Cotterstock and into the wooded part by the brook. It was as if they had watched me, and had moved away deliberately. After trudging through the village again to my original spot it seemed they were back in the woods. Frustrating and tiring, but I knew that soon the adults would be forcing the chicks to perch out in the open to fish for themselves.
I was very tired when I got home, and didn’t sleep very well despite being exhausted. Early next day things started to look up when a chick called then flew out from the willow trees right on the edge of Snipe Meadow. I went to the stretch upstream of the side weir where the first brood of chicks appeared at this stage. One was there as I arrived, perching on the most obvious of the dead trees, right was right out in the open. Occasionally it moved to another perch nearby, and made a few attempts to fish. No adult visited it over the course of about 3 hours, and I didn’t hear or see the other chick. I managed to get a photo of the start of one of its dives into the water and was delighted. Maybe tomorrow I’d see an adult and chick together?