Our first impressions of Velavadar National Park, in the Bhavnagar District of the Indian state of Gujarat, were certainly not the most endearing.

A faint heat haze shimmered the grasses, dust devils whirled past and a rusty swing creaked

The rather grim government guesthouses, squatting obtrusively in the midst of bleak and arid grassland, didn’t exactly conjure up impressions of natural beauty. The surly guard at the park entrance who demanded a fistful of rupees (apparently as an‘additional entrance fee’ to the park passes that we had already procured) didn’t help either.

Still, we had travelled long and hard to get here, so we handed our money over to the welcoming committee and deposited our rucksacks in the rather grandly (albeit somewhat optimistically) named ‘tourist chalet’. Then, brushing dust from our binoculars, we locked the door and surveyed the land outside.

There was certainly an apocalyptic feel to the area. Our lodgings resembled fall-out shelters and the vista before us was dusty and beige. A faint heat haze shimmered the grasses, dust devils whirled past and a rusty swing creaked ominously (it later transpired that, as long as one wasn’t afraid of collapse and entrapment, the swings were rather comfortable).

The late afternoon did, however, have an air of expectancy about it, as if there was more to this dreary setting than the end of the world.

Velavadar is known for its massive winter roosts of harriers, drawing in Montague’s, Pallid and European Marsh Harriers – all species familiar to birdwatchers, and also unfortunately poachers, in Malta.

The park contains one of the most important concentrations of these birds in the world and is one of the reasons why it was granted National Park status. Having spent the summer breeding in Eastern Europe, Russia and Asia, these graceful, long-winged birds of prey gather here in wintering flocks of up to 2,000.

During the day, they range far and wide over the surrounding fields, hunting insects, small birds and rodents from their lofty vantage points. However, as night draws close, they return to the park to roost in the shelter of the tall grasses.

It was still early afternoon, so we sat down on a couple of aged plastic chairs to relax and watch the land around us. Within a few minutes, we were joined by an exceedingly friendly Indian Blackbuck, which had apparently been raised by park staff after being orphaned.

It was a beautiful, dainty antelope with soft earthy hues and a sprinter’s physique. Atop its head rose two formidable horns, curling upwards and away. Having now become acquainted with us it accepted an apple and settled next to us, contentedly munching its prize.

As the shadows lengthened, the harriers began to drift over our heads in pairs and trios. They flew past with barely a sound, wing tips upturned, rocking gently in the light evening breeze.

As each small group appeared, they joined the main gathering now idly swirling in the distance; a mass of dark, streamlined shapes silhouetted against the dusk skies. Leaving our Blackbuck companion behind, we hiked the dusty tracks out into the plains to get closer to the action.

It was a truly impressive gathering of birds of prey, swirling high above us like a living tornado, gathering in size and intensity as more and more birds lofted in. However, harriers were not the only spectacle for which the park was justly famous.

As the harriers continued to amass overhead, herds of the endangered Indian Blackbuck began to gather in the open plains. These antelope also arrived in small groups; the males milling about in the open, tossing their heads, their sleek black and white coats contrasting sharply with the muted browns of the landscape.

They observed us carefully from a distance, flicking their ears, resplendent with their massive, spiralled horns. The younger animals half-heartedly jostled and nudged each other in front of disinterested females. There were soon thousands of them, a fitting mammalian counterpart to the feathered flocks still spiralling above.

It was a truly impressive gathering of birds of prey, swirling high like a living tornado

Entranced by this incredible multitude of life that dominated the landscape before us, we were unprepared for what happened next. It started with the blackbuck; you could almost taste the sense of fear and urgency that suddenly rose among them.

They had obviously caught wind of something, eyes peering fretfully around them, ears swivelling and nostrils straining for scent. We too started scanning with our binoculars, eventually catching a rustle and the vaguest hint of movement beyond the herd.

This resolved itself into a glimpse of low, slinking bodies, barely visible in the grass, moving in single file towards the antelope. A canine head rose briefly to scan the herd and we realised with a thrill that we were watching a hunting pack of Indian Wolves.

We barely had time to register the excitement when the blackbuck spotted them too. The herd panicked, filling the air with the rumble of hooves and the clatter of horns as they transformed the great plain into a billowing cloud of dust.

Our world was momentarily filled with this thundering sound as they flashed by us, crossing the track mere metres away, until the plains were emptied and the herd was gone.

A rumble of sound, a taste of dust, a blur of bodies and then… silence.

The wolves had disappeared with them, their shadows slipping by us unnoticed in the confusion of jostling antelope.

As we tried to register this sudden mass exodus, we realised that it was also being mirrored in the skies above. The whirling mass of harriers, content that the plains below them was now safe for the night, began to drop swiftly to the ground, instantly disappearing from sight in the shifting grass.

Feathered bodies plummeted like hailstones into the dimming outline of the land, and then they too were gone. So abruptly did this dual departure of land and air occur that, within minutes, we were looking out upon a featureless landscape once more.

But we looked upon it with a renewed respect, knowing that if anyone chanced upon it now, they would never believe the sights we had just had the privilege of witnessing.