It’s the sky, I’m transfixed by the sky, the vast elegy-inducing sky. Just 12 hours after gazing up at the biggest, brightest moon I’ve witnessed outside southern Africa, grey lava flows outlined against its radiant surface, I’m staring up at the heavens once more. On a cloudless, cobalt-blue morning, my eyes are now lasered on a golden eagle as he arrows, alarmingly quickly, towards my outstretched arm.

Carmarthenshire’s understated bucolic beauty may lie within easy plane-free reach, but two new experiences offer adventures worthy of wilder, more far-flung corners of the planet: a full-moon hike to an isolated Welsh summit beneath some of Europe’s darkest skies, and the chance to fly the UK’s three largest birds of prey, including a white-tailed sea eagle, the species with the widest wingspan of any eagle on Earth.

But before the raptors, the ramble. Guide Lisa Denison launched her moonlit hikes to offer a radically different perspective on the great outdoors, a local answer to Scandinavia’s aurora searches and midnight sun celebrations.‘

At night, all your senses are heightened,’ she explains as I slip on my rucksack. ‘Spectral moonlight fires the imagination.’

My mind won’t need much help. Our three-mile route reveals the enormous Iron Age fort, Y Gaer Fawr, once encircled by 9m-high, 4.5m-thick stone ramparts. The rectangular settlement’s long gone but, two millennia later, its ghosts linger among the chaotic mounds of rocks.

By day, the hilltop fort enjoys a widescreen view of the Towy Valley’s emerald hills, where ancient drovers’ paths, kites, buzzards and wild ponies paint a portrait of rural bliss.

Night-time has a different artist, however. We’re on the western rim of the Brecon Beacons National Park, a dark sky reserve, and as I drive to our meeting point above Bethlehem village –surely the ultimate location to follow a star – the lanes are draped with menacing shadows.

My vision’s now reduced to blues, silvers and greys. ‘You’re using retinal rods rather than cones: the Purkinje effect,’ says Denison. ‘The longer you keep your headtorch off, the more your eyes adjust.’

Not a problem. Torches are near redundant tonight. A show-stopping full moon washes ruts, roots and rocks with brilliant light that intensifies on the wide-open hilltop, spotlighting surrounding fields and slopes beneath the glowering silhouette of distant hills.

Inside Y Gaer Fawr, I stand next to what looks like a ceremonial arena (the fort’s yet to be excavated). It’s no stretch to picture families clad in rough linens and animal skins gathered by roundhouse fires, safe from howling wolves and marauding Celts in the encircling forest.

Despite the blazing moonlight, the heavens are slathered with stars and planets: Little Bear and Orion constellations, alongside Sirius, Mars and Jupiter. Minutes later, as a hooting barn owl breaks the reverential silence, the backlit clouds meld together, creating an eerie, mottled canopy directly above our heads. The world feels wild and primal, alive with ancestral spirits.

Next morning, I’m again mesmerised by nature. This time, it’s more intimate. So intimate, in fact, that it’s perched on my wrist, its lethal talons gripping my leather gauntlet. Meet Mid as the golden eagle, the first of three massive predators I’m learning to fly at Carmarthenshire’s British Bird of Prey Centre – the only aviary dedicated to British raptors.

Given the strain on my outstretched arm, it’s little surprise to find that Midas weighs a hefty 3.4kg. ‘How are the muscles?’ jokes trainee falconer Celyn Jones, one of two experts leading the private experience. ‘No need to hit the gym today.’ At close quarters, the power, energy and sudden rush of air as the eagle takes flight are totally unforgettable.‘

Chatty, highly intelligent’ Midas might be a juvenile who makes what Jones calls ‘little baby noises’, but he’s unlike any toddler I’ve ever met. Within minutes, he has ripped apart and devoured six dead chicks – his reward for flying on to nearby wooden posts. His razor-tipped, 5cm-longback talon, which exerts six times the power of the strongest human hand, is simply terrifying.

In high winds, golden eagles can soar to dizzying heights, making streamlined 200mph dives. It won’t happen on this still, breathless  morning. Instead, two territorial buzzards provide a fascinating wildlife interaction straight out of a natural-history documentary. Midas initially ducks to avoid their divebombing passes, but when the harassment continues in mid-air, he simply rolls over, revealing his talons. ‘It’s a warning,’ notes Jones. ‘Leave me alone.’ The buzzards wisely take note.

The second act of the feathered trilogy is Popeye the eagle owl. While lighter, he still sports a 1.8m wingspan alongside two “ear tufts” and a supersized personality. His USP is a photogenic waggle dance, synchronising head bobs with rocking from claw to claw. Unexpectedly, Popeye also adores walkies, following us through the woods and across the National Botanic Garden of Wales (the centre sits within its grounds). ‘Imagine taking your dog for a stroll,’ explains Jones, ‘except it can fly and doesn’t wear a lead.’

Every so often, I raise my arm and Popeye Previous page: Drew Davies; The Photo library Wales/Alamy glides low above the ground before a last-second swoop up on to my gauntlet. Garden visitors stop, stare and raise camera phones. I’m being immortalised as a modern-day Oscar Wilde, who’s reported to have walked his pet lobster down Oxford High Street.

The flying experience leaves the largest, most majestic bird for last. The white-tailed sea eagle, with an eye-popping 2.3m wingspan, starred in Sir David Attenborough’s Wild Isles, knocking seven bells out of an unfortunate barnacle goose. Aquarius, a fully grown juvenile, weighs over 5kg, including a savage beak. I’m both mesmerised and intimidated.

She’s still learning to fly, sailing above the display ground searching for uplifting wind, but Aquarius is already a magnificent specimen. As she approaches my leather gauntlet for the last time, her massive outstretched wings wraparound my head and shoulders, temporarily blotting out the sun. It’s the perfect finale to a trip that began with a gleaming, million-watt full moon: an eagle eclipse.

Moonlit hikes £15pp, quietwalks.co.uk; Eagle Experience Wales, £200pp, britishbirdofpreycentre.co.uk