The Diving Falcon

Polly thought about the peregrine for two days. She wanted to feel the shape of its dive.

Polly tenkte på vandrefalken i to dager. Hun ville kjenne følelsen av stupet dens.

On the third morning, before the visitor lots filled, she went to El Capitan. She found a peregrine on a high ledge. It was a male, smaller than the female she had seen with Tomas. Slate-grey back, white barred chest. It was eating something.

Den tredje morgenen, før parkeringsplassene ble fulle, dro hun til El Capitan. Hun fant en vandrefalk på en høy avsats. Det var en hann, mindre enn hunnen hun hadde sett med Tomas. Skifergrå rygg, hvitstripet bryst. Den spiste noe.

She perched on a manzanita branch fifty metres away and waited.

Hun satte seg på en manzanita-gren femti meter unna og ventet.

The peregrine finished its meal. It wiped its beak on the rock and looked at her. Then it stepped off the ledge.

Vandrefalken fullførte måltidet sitt. Den tørket nebbet på steinen og så på henne. Så steg den ut fra avsatsen.

It did not flap. It folded its wings against its body, like a leaf pulled into a stem, and dropped. It accelerated. It went past the middle of the cliff face in two seconds. Then it pulled its wings out, banked, and was gone behind a buttress.

Den slo ikke med vingene. Den foldet dem mot kroppen, som et blad trukket inn i en stilk, og falt. Den akselererte. Den passerte midten av klippeveggen på to sekunder. Så brettet den ut vingene, svingte, og forsvant bak en støtte.

A peregrine falcon in a dive can reach 380 kilometres an hour. That is the fastest movement of any animal on Earth. To dive that fast without injury, peregrines have a third eyelid that closes over the eye to keep the wind out. They have small cones in their nostrils that slow the air entering their lungs.

En vandrefalk i stup kan nå 380 kilometer i timen. Det er den raskeste bevegelsen av noe dyr på jorden. For å stupe så raskt uten skade, har vandrefalker et tredje øyelokk som lukker seg over øyet for å holde vinden ute. De har små kjegler i neseborene som bremser luften inn i lungene.

Polly was not built for that dive. She knew this. But the curiosity was bigger than the knowing.

Polly var ikke bygget for det stupet. Hun visste dette. Men nysgjerrigheten var større enn vissheten.

She flew up to the ledge and looked down. The drop was nearly vertical. She folded her wings against her green body. She tilted forward. She fell.

Hun fløy opp til avsatsen og så ned. Fallet var nesten vertikalt. Hun foldet vingene mot den grønne kroppen sin. Hun lente seg fremover. Hun falt.

It was not a peregrine dive. It was a parrot in too much hurry. She wobbled. The wind got under one wing. She corrected, lost the line, corrected again. Twenty metres in, she opened her wings and pulled out in a loose, embarrassed arc.

Det var ikke et vandrefalkestup. Det var en papegøye i altfor stor hast. Hun vaklet. Vinden kom under den ene vingen. Hun korrigerte, mistet linjen, korrigerte igjen. Tyve meter inn, åpnet hun vingene og trakk seg ut i en løs, flau bue.

She tried again, smaller, from a lower perch. Then again, lower still. By noon, she had made eight short dives. None were peregrine dives. All were a little better than the last.

Hun prøvde igjen, mindre, fra en lavere avsats. Så igjen, enda lavere. Ved middagstid hadde hun gjort åtte korte stup. Ingen var vandrefalkestup. Alle var litt bedre enn det forrige.