Another memorable encounter was when an adult bird smashed through one of the large double-glazed university windows – presumably unable to pull out of a high speed stoop after a local pigeon. The knot twisted and turned, splitting into aerial spheres of thousands of birds before coalescing into a tight mass, all the while with the peregrine stooping and chasing until it secured a victory. Without warning, a large falcon appeared out of the blue and piled into the roosting birds, causing pandemonium. I first witnessed one hunting on a field-trip to Heysham Bay, where 50,000 knot would roost at high tide. Always at a distance, I wasn’t sure that I’d ever be able to photograph them.

During the term, I’d occasionally see them on the church in the town centre or perched near the top of “The Big One” at Blackpool Pleasure Beach – the world’s tallest rollercoaster at the time. I can’t remember my very first encounter, but I remember becoming aware of them when I was studying wildlife photography at university in Blackpool. My relationship with peregrine falcons has been a long one. A portfolio of my peregrines is currently up on the BBC Wildlife Magazine website, featuring some of the images I’ve been working on for the past 2 years, so I thought I’d take the opportunity to write a bit about the project.

Urban Peregrines by Ed Drewitt