A grey male drifts slowly across the moorland. No, not me, but a big, beautiful hen harrier, scouting for love, or breakfast. I’ve only been here 10 minutes, and I’m in a mild state of shock. Aren’t these precious, threatened birds of prey so vanishingly rare that seeing one is hugely improbable?
I’m walking with Sonja Ludwig, RSPB species and habitats officer for the Forest of Bowland, and she knows these harriers. “They’re ‘traditional’ birds,” she says. “They tend to come back to more or less the same place. We always see them here. Rookies always notice the males first. Their plumage, white rump and the black tips on the wings are unmistakable.”
