Buzzards
Whereas most of the information contain within this wiki is related to the railway, a bit also covers the geological commerce of the area (i.e., Slate quarrying). A volunteer has written on the subject of the local bird life.
Buzzard, in Welsh Boda or Bwncath ( = Bittern-cat), Buteo buteo, is a large bird of prey, weighing 1lb to 2½lb (500 - 1500g), with a body length up to 22in (57cm) and a wing span of about 4ft (1250mm) or a little more. There are different varieties - ours are the Common Buzzard, generally brown with a paler under side, but their colour varies considerably. The female is bigger than the male. They lay two to four eggs; incubation is five weeks and fledging - first flight of the chick - is seven to eight weeks later. Formerly they were persecuted by gamekeepers, but now that they are largely left alone, in our part of Wales their curiosity has largely overcome their fear of humans. Like many raptors, they display surprising intelligence.
They live in woodland and hunt in moorland, and it is a delight to watch them following the trains in the landscape. The first pair I met on the Railway were circling over Llyn Mair and plainly visible from Tan y Bwlch. As a Down train approached, the female went and sat on the telegraph pole at the Up end of Garnedd Tunnel, only tumbling off into the air as the loco approached within yards. I talked about this to Martin Duncan, the S&T Engineer, who said 'Yes, they wait for the approach of the train and pounce on the small creatures disturbed by its passage.' Obviously, this is a profitable way of looking for dinner, and over the years we have had four other pairs set up in business sitting on telegraph poles in the same way. The last pair set up at Penrhyn Down Distant signal, which we thought a bit close to human habitation, but they don't seem to mind. After all, in many places abroad they are scavengers on back yards.
The Boston Lodge cat having died, full of years and honours, we have been taken over by a further pair of buzzards. You can watch them hovering if the wind is right, or circling the Works if not, watching us keenly with their excellent eyesight. They drop dramatically on rats or mice or rabbits, and certainly make as good a job at dealing with our vermin as the cat did. Whether the Welsh name Bittern-Cat refers to their hunting habits or their mewing call from the air, I don't know. At Boston Lodge, I have seen two males performing tumbling aerobatics in front of an all but motionless, hovering female. I don't know if she picked either of them.
One day in Minffordd Yard, on a pile of rails, I saw what at first glance was a hen. However, it had a business-like curved beak and a cheeky look in its eye; it sat and looked at me from fifteen feet (5m) away, but deciding it did not care for being looked down on, gave two or three flaps of its enormous wings and settled on a branch of a nearby oak, where it looked down at me with interest from a mere ten feet (3m).
In the hills, buzzards circle platelayers, mewing, waiting for one to lie down and die; they have been disappointed. However the platelayers sometimes see one - usually the male - drop out of the sky onto some unfortunate creature and carry it off, if it is small enough; if not, the mate circles into a more graceful landing to help with the meal.
On Rheilffordd Eryri, buzzards have a trick - as shown on video - flying at train speed in front of the loco six feet (2m) above ground and pouncing on creatures running for cover, lifting them out of the way before the train. Once, the buzzard caught a rodent and wishing to display its catch, dropped back alongside the loco cab and flew alongside for a while - the driver was sure it was saying 'thank you!'