Even at 9am in Inverness City, you can be an eye witness to an attempted murder.

I was nonchalantly walking down the street by the river, to meet a friend for an early morning coffee, when I heard a rumpus overhead. There was a cacophony from scores of rooks and seagulls above my head. Unusual at this time of year, I thought. Because birds are usually on the silent side just now - apart from the sharp tinkly notes of robins, or the honking sirens of geese overhead.

I was trying to think of a word to describe the actual sound a seagull makes - and, for some reason, Kehaar the Seagull from Watership Down came into my head. As I was pondering all this - in my usual distracted fashion - I stumbled upon the attempted murder.

It was in broad daylight, and ironically, on the drive of the Undertaker's.

I shouted, and the would-be murderer took flight. The much larger abductee flew off more slowly in the opposite direction.

I should explain: a sparrowhawk had a big pigeon pinned to the ground. Only the pigeon's head was moving like a demon - desperately.

Before I'd actually seen one, and relied on illustrations, I'd always imagined a sparrowhawk was the size of a buzzard but with stripy loon pants. It is, in fact, a much smaller raptor - but mega-fast!

Last winter, in my back garden, one almost bumped into me in pursuit of a hapless sparrow. I felt the wind of it as it passed my ear! You have to admire their dexterity!

Today, I felt the urge to adopt a Taggart voice and call out, 'There's almost been a MYRRH-DUR!' However, I managed to keep that thought to myself.