Strolling alongside the little narrow river Sid in Devon, on a drizzly blustery day, I become aware of short sharp thin whistling calls emanating from a hedge sprawling down to the water’s edge on the opposite bank.

Suddenly, two kingfishers streak down river towards me. From my high vantage point I can see their stubby wings whirring in a blur of exquisite iridescent dark and electric blue as they zoom up into the hedge where their fledglings wait to be fed.

I estimate there are about five young strategically perched in the hedge, all whistling constantly.

The adults are hyper-active, flying to and fro at regular intervals. Sometimes they alight on a concrete apron at the water’s edge below a bridge, their impossibly long beaks partly agape in characteristic kingfisher fashion (see photo).

On another occasion a young bird dives from the hedge to sit on a floating platform of dead vegetation to become almost invisible. But the birds are never still for more than a few seconds at a time.

A large brown trout cruising in the shallow gravelly slow moving river is suddenly spooked as a kingfisher flies directly over it, causing the fish to churn across to the opposite bank.

I feel really privileged to be able to observe this dazzling little family as they are usually very secretive and shy birds. A truly halcyon day for me.