I'm still thinking about it.
It was this past Sunday, on my second jump. I'd just done six perfect flips, popped a perfect canopy, and had settled in for a sweet swoop down.
Suddenly, I noticed I wasn't alone.
A red-tailed hawk was slipping through the wind perhaps ten feet off to my right. From where I was, hanging in the sky directly next to him, I was able to watch the air moving through his flight feathers as he rode it.
He caught me staring and shot me a look. I glanced away, bashful.
He gave me an up-and-down onceover, tossed his head, and spiralled effortlessly down.
One day, I'll be able to give playful chase.