The quiet hour that pays best

Kingfishers live on British rivers and canals all year round, but the odds of actually seeing one change dramatically with the clock. The first hour or two after sunrise is the window that matters. Light is low and soft, the towpath is empty, and after a cold night the birds are desperate to feed. On a summer morning you might have a misty stretch of river entirely to yourself, and a kingfisher will happily hunt within a few feet of a bank you walked past at noon without so much as a ripple.

Autumn and winter are arguably better still. Frost sharpens the air, bankside cover dies back, and the birds roam further along rivers, canals and flooded gravel pits. Hunger makes them bolder. On a hard January morning a kingfisher will sit out on an open branch for minutes at a time, and a tidal reach that seems lifeless in August can hold several birds within a mile of each other.

Dress to disappear, not to impress

Kingfishers have excellent eyesight and a nervous disposition. The single most common reason people never see one is that they arrive on the bank looking like a signal flare. Think muted and shapeless rather than technical and tidy.

• Colour: olive, brown, grey, dark green. Avoid white, scarlet, navy and anything with a sheen or reflective trim.
• Fabric: soft, quiet clothing. Crisp waterproofs that rustle with every step will clear a hundred yards of river ahead of you.
• Footwear: soft soles. Gravel crunching under stiff boots is the sound of birds departing before you see them.
• Kit: a dull-coloured bag, a flask that does not clink, and keys muffled in a pocket. Binoculars of 8x42 or 8x32 gather enough light at dawn without being a burden.

None of this needs to be expensive. A faded green jumper and a canvas satchel will outperform a bright new jacket every time.

Where kingfishers actually sit

Look for shallow water over gravel, weed or silt, because that is where small fish gather — minnows, sticklebacks, young roach. Then look up a foot or two above the surface for a perch with a clear drop beneath it. Favourite spots include:

• Low branches of alder, willow and hawthorn that dip towards the water.
• Exposed roots and fallen limbs trailing in a slow current.
• Reed stems, mooring posts, landing stages and the timbers of lock gates.
• Bridge parapets, and the gunwales of moored narrowboats where the boat has been still for weeks.
• Vertical sandy banks nearby, where pairs nest in tunnels up to a metre long.

Riffles and eddies — the places where the surface crinkles and folds — are worth a second look. A kingfisher will often hunt a short circuit of perches, working its way along a few hundred yards and then turning back, so if you find one perch you have found a route.

Listen first, then look for the flash

More often than not you will hear a kingfisher before you see it. The call is a thin, sharp, high-pitched whistle — a single piercing note, sometimes doubled, given in flight and often while still out of sight around a bend. Once you learn it, you will start noticing the bird two or three seconds early, which is usually enough to raise your binoculars in time.

The famous flash of electric blue is genuine, but it is brief and unreliable. In dull light the back reads dark and almost black; in sunlight it turns a startling cobalt or turquoise. What you will see first is usually the flight: fast, straight, low over the water, wings whirring, orange underparts briefly visible as the bird banks. Once it lands, you can enjoy the details — the dagger bill, the white throat patch, the rich chestnut underparts. If the lower half of the bill is orange-red, you are looking at a female; an all-black bill means a male.

Moving through the landscape without announcement

Stalking is simply walking well. Move at half your normal pace, keep your weight on the back foot, and stop often — ten seconds of stillness every twenty yards will reveal more than any amount of creeping. Use cover: hedge lines, tall bankside vegetation, the far side of a moored boat. Never stand on the skyline at the top of a steep bank; step down towards the water and let the bank break up your outline.

If you do disturb a bird, do not follow it. Mark the direction it went, wait five minutes, and carry on slowly. Kingfishers are territorial and predictable, and they usually return to the same few perches within a quarter of an hour.

Keeping a record, and enjoying the near misses

Pick one stretch of water and walk it regularly at the same time. Within a fortnight you will start to recognise individual perches and, with luck, the routine of a resident pair. Note the date, the time, the weather and where the bird was sitting; a pocket notebook is more useful than memory.

Accept that most mornings will give you nothing but a heron, a grey wagtail and the sound of your own boots. That is part of it. Then, on some unremarkable Tuesday, a branch above shallow water will suddenly come alive with colour, and the whole quiet hour will have paid for itself many times over.