the blue meteor of Bradford on Avon

Where I was moored near Semington in Wiltshire, whitethroats called all along the towpath, occasionally making short song flights before dropping to a new perch. Their call is slightly sneezy, and reminds me a little of the more laid-back yellowhammer song that's started to be heard; both of them well suited to the hot, languid afternoons we've had over the last week.

I came over to Bradford on Avon a couple of days ago, and am moored near the tithe barn in a long avenue of tall trees where the blackcaps sing. There are lots of kingfishers on the river here, or perhaps one very busy kingfisher. This morning I took an early walk and watched one fly along, dumpy and purposeful, and burst into a sunbeam like a blue meteor hitting the earth's atmosphere. 

A short time later I saw the kingfisher again, hovering briefly over the water. I never knew they did that.

The splashing under the trees below the packhorse bridge proved to be not a giant otter, but a labrador  called Walpole.

I'm guessing at its name.

Here's Peter, of NB Grey Hare. I last met him in Reading last year, when Suzanne and I were setting off up the alarmingly flooded Kennet in Suzanne's boat Electra. Peter's been at Hilperton over the winter, working on his engine.