A walk by the river or canal finds a few busy ducks dabbling for food and loudly chasing away any that other ducks that encroach on their territory, black coots with white beaks calling to each other as they scoot around the weeds, and the shy timid moorhen, with her flash of red on the beak keeping close to the reeds and bullrushes, ready to hide at the first sign of danger.
Along the edge of the water there are patches of frog spawn, looking like semolina pudding, congealed together, gently floating to and fro with the current.
Soon these will turn into busy tadpoles, swimming frantically as they gradually grow legs and become tiny frogs and toads.
Then they hop out of the water, onto the path, causing mayhem as walkers try to step around the multitude of them.
The stately white swans glide quietly and majestically, like the regal birds they are. They usually have a large open nest at the side, midst the reeds, where the female will sit solemnly and watch life pass her by.
The two swans are obviously partners for life and swim together like ballet dancers in a duet, synchronized together forever.
Late spring and the bullrushes grow, the yellow irises appear like soldiers along the edge of the water, beautiful flashes of sunshine.
Dragonflies, their wings shimmering in the light, flit to and fro from flower to flower, only landing for seconds before continuing their flight.
Every walk by the water brings delight, none more so than this time of year.