Gliders, sail planes, they're wonderful flying machines. It's the closest you can come to being a bird.
The closer the bird is to the surface of the water, the firmer and more inelastic is the uplift of the rising air. The bird appears to almost feel the surface with the tip of its weather wing.
When the weight of the paper equals the weight of the airplane, only then you can go flying.
August is the month of the high-sailing hawks. The hen hawk is the most noticeable. He likes the haze and calm of these long, warm days. He is a bird of leisure and seems always at his ease. How beautiful and majestic are his movements!
Birds have wings; they're free; they can fly where they want when they want. They have the kind of mobility many people envy.
The Golden Eagle, which has universally been considered as a bird of most extraordinary powers of flight, is in my estimation little more than a sluggard, though its wings are long and ample.
The most amazing lesson in aerodynamics I ever had was the day I climbed a thermal in a glider at the same time as an eagle. I witnessed, close up, effortlessness and lightness combined with strength, precision and determination.
Anyone who has ever stopped to watch a hawk in flight will know that this is one of the natural world's most elegant phenomena.
I was crossing the English Channel with a carbon-fiber wing on my back.
I love the way ravens fly; they are the most acrobatic and daring birds.
You know, I'm an eagle, flying around in the mountains.
It's hard to imagine you've got these massive wings in your back. You have to think about how it's going to affect your posture, affect the way you move, just, like, the sheer weight of them.
