I was walking home from schoolwhen a group of pigeons scattered from their perch atop a nearby building. Then, out of the sky, dropping like a piece of shrapnel, was the source of the commotion. As the peregrine falcon levelled out of its stoop, it careered into one of the birds, the pair plummeting out of sight, the pigeon inevitably dead from the sheer force of the impact. The last remnant of the skirmish was a handful of small grey feathers that gently drifted to the ground where they lay, a testament to the hunting prowess of the falcon.

The incident reminded me of one several months earlier. I had heard a crash from our balcony, and, looking out, I saw a juvenile peregrine falcon, which had maybe overshot while attempting to land and was now trapped there. It quickly righted itself and ruffled its wings, disgruntled and distressed. I watched as it managed to extricate itself, and wing its way back to Canary Wharf.

I wondered if it was the same one, once clumsy, now grown up and a formidable hunter.

In recent years, falcons have lived in many London landmarks such as the Tate Modern, Battersea Power Station and, most notably, the Houses of Parliament. It is amazing how their population had managed to recover from the 1950s when they were almost destroyed by a toxic agricultural pesticide called DDT. Now, the modern edifices of the London skyline serve as the cliffs that they call home.

Olivier, 14

Read today’s other YCD piece, by Oonagh, 11: ‘The night I clicked with the bats’