When a Buzzard is not JUST a Buzzard
If something previously special becomes part of the everyday, does the sparkle wear off?
I still remember seeing my first ever [Common] Buzzard. We were on our way to our family camping holiday in Devon when I was 14. I can still picture the mighty raptor now, soaring above the M5, and I twisted in my seat to peer upwards and get a good look at it. A new bird for me! Almost as exciting (and far closer) as the much rarer Honey Buzzards which I saw in Devon.)
But, you say, aren’t Buzzards really common?
Back in the early 90s, there were no Buzzards (and no Red Kites) where I grew up in Northamptonshire. It seems hard to believe now - every time I visit my mum and dad we start the journey intending to count the birds we see, but they become so numerous we always give up counting and just enjoy looking at them.
The Buzzard is now the UK’s commonest bird of prey (even more numerous than the kestrel now). Only yesterday I saw four circling together while I sat at my desk at home, and there’s a particular Buzzard which likes sitting on a particular lamp-post over the A14, which I always watch out for. Recently I enjoyed a close flypast at eye level from my elevated viewing position (the top deck of my bus home). It’s safe to say that Buzzards are everywhere here now.
Here’s a graph I pinched from the BTO which shows how much Buzzard numbers have skyrocketed in the time since I saw my first:
And they are not just more numerous, but also much more widespread than they used to be. Compare 1988-1991 (left) with 2007-2011 (right). These maps are from the BTO Map Store. Birds in Britain are some of the best-studied in the world, with the help of thousands of volunteers!
Another 12 years have passed since the right-hand map was created - I wonder what the picture looks like in 2023?
So why have Buzzard numbers gone up so much? According to the RSPB, it’s down to the Buzzard population recovering from the use of pesticides and a reduction in illegal killing (which does still go on, by the way).
Even now, I still get a tiny bit excited when I see a Buzzard - I don’t take them for granted. They’re never really “just” a Buzzard to me. They represent our how our environment and birdlife has changed during my lifetime and how things never stay the same. It’s just a case of whether we notice it happening under our noses.
Lots of people will have spotted that big, obvious and sometimes noisy Buzzards are now in their local fields or by the side of the road. Or they’ll see dazzling white, ‘exotic’ Little Egrets by their local lake or stream. Great [White] Egrets are pretty easy to see in some places, and even Cattle Egrets are nothing to get excited about in the Fens anymore.
Other species like Turtle Doves, Corn Buntings and Yellow Wagtails have slipped away largely unnoticed by most people. Their graphs and maps make for depressing reading.
It would be silly not to mention now that I have some greeting cards with Buzzards on!
And some more with Turtle Doves!
Interesting fact: the French word for Buzzard is not busard. That’s the word for harrier. French Buzzards are buses.
Now I’m writing this I’m not sure if I want my house style for bird names to be buzzard or Buzzard, but maybe I’d better follow the precedent I set with Black-tailed Godwit last time…
Leave a comment if you have strong feelings on this.
(please don’t)
Loved this piece, Katie. I'm equally fortunate to have a local buzzard family and every sighting is a pleasure - ubiquitous though they may be statistically speaking. They always seem to know to appear when I need to see them the most (anthropomorphising much here); perched along side the road through the common on my drive home, or regally seated on a low branch over the woodland path. One thing that I do find wonderful about their constance is, as you say above, the chance to watch their behaviour with greater frequency and, excitingly, greater proximity. The day a buzzard chased a pigeon into tree right in front of me was one I won't forget. Only one bird emerged!