Over here buzzard is used not just for the unfeathered heads of carrion feeders but also for hawks. Nonetheless whenever I drive past the hawk on his perch overlooking the road just hoping for a dead rabbit, I am transported back to the many cartoon images of buzzards. A misspent youth nae doot.
When I drove into the village still clinging to the hope that the weather would clear enough for a walk around the harbour, I knew my hope was in vain when the buzzard unhurriedly rose into the air. Not even the prospect of road kill was enough to keep him perched there in the cold, wet wind.
No bird brain this buzzard.