The infamous Devon buzzard attacked riders on my Kernow 600. I was at the control in Bude (in Bude with the spirit of audax) and several riders came in having been attacked. Drew Buck had his hat stolen. A following cyclist retrieved it after the bird discarded it, and a happy Drew and his headgear were reunited.
One magical afternoon in North Devon there was a commotion in the ditch beside me and a buzzard emerged flapping heavily, dragging some largish prey which was too heavy to get easily airborne. I vividly remember making eye-contact as it flapped alongside.
Not much later a barn owl kept silent pace just ahead of me, scanning the verges first one side then the other, before veering off into woods.
Riding the first Crackpot 1000, I was first on the road for a while, heading south over the moors from Minehead as dawn broke. The dew was steaming off the land, rabbits were darting about. I followed a stag clip-clopping along the lane before it turned off towards a huddle of steaming deer. I followed a hare or two, and probably other animals (if I could remember). Birds were singing everywhere.