Precisely holding station in a gentle breeze and making deft adjustments of wings and fanned out tail, the kestrel (pictured) hovered 100ft above the meadow. Head down, eyes focused intently on something moving in the long grass and tracing the ultra violet rays emanating from urine trails as the voles moved along their pathways, the bird gently lowered itself as if suspended on an invisible thread, hovered again, dropped another five feet hovered, and with wings slowly folding, stooped to conquer!

Within seconds the kestrel emerged from the lush sward and flew swiftly off to a nearby tree belt, dangling yellow talons firmly clutching a field vole or mouse.

Grasshoppers chirped; meadow brown butterflies fluttered lazily among the thistles while close by a chiffchaff and blackcap sang all oblivious of the drama being played out feet away.

A typical summer’s day in an English meadow, a scene enacted in countless fields and along motorway verges across Britain. Indeed, the kestrel has become a familiar and welcome sight along our motorway network since the 1960s, speedily adapting to and taking advantage of the rich wildlife living along the links between towns.

In many respects, roads have replaced hedgerows which despite being so called ‘protected’ continue to be cynically destroyed at an alarming rate with scant regard to the consequences.

Kestrels, known as ‘wind-hovers’ in country areas and also by another name too rude to mention here!

Kestrels feed on beetles, grasshoppers, small mammals and occasionally small birds. I worry when I see one hovering over skylark nesting areas. Sometimes we can see kestrels perched on telegraph poles or high in treetops from which vantage points they can stoop on prey below.

Hunting techniques employed by kestrels are completely different from the smash-and-grab style adapted by sparrow hawks.

A few years ago, sitting in a leafy London square, I saw a flock of sparrows were feeding in the grass, as suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a sparrowhawk flying fast and low above the grass towards the sparrows until too late — and an unwary young bird was quickly snatched up much to the consternation of the shrieking sparrows.

On another occasion I watched a sparrowhawk speed into a leafless tree where three blue tits were feeding but the hawk grabbed a tit and amid a flurry of drifting feathers flew on with the remaining tits quite unaware of the surprise attack.

Recently I heard a loud yelping of parakeets and looking out saw a kestrel flying slowly over the garden. But parakeets are too bulky for kestrels to handle. On the other hand, parakeets are a favourite dish of peregrine falcons!