Kestrel coast

I had been watching the kestrel for about 10 minutes as it hung on the wind, wings outstretched, the slightest movement of its fanned tail helping to stabilise it against the buffeting breeze. Its head remained stock-still as its eyes scanned the tussocky clifftop for the slightest sign of life. When it finally struck, it was fast and clean, a blur of chestnut and grey dropping from the sky to grab its unsuspecting prey.

For readers of a certain age, the kestrel will always hold a special place in our hearts. This elegant falcon was the symbol of the Young Ornithologists Club – a 1970s precursor to the RSPB’s current Wildlife Explorers – and our gateway to birdwatching. It offered excitement and intrigue, and was