POETRY
The Part Where We Kiss by John “Catfish” Wojtowicz We rag up to the craggy peak of Hawksbill Mountain where I point out the blue-gray wings and white underbellies of peregrine falcons riding the thermals, rising up with the heat of the day. Our annual National Park trip; a break from being who the world convinced us to be. My daughter gasps when a male peregrine dives in a yellow flash of hooked beak and talons; the signature stoop of the fastest animal on the planet. Her mama stopped climbing after the first 100ft of the vertical trail breathless from carrying the weight of our unborn son, conceived 7 months prior. She’d decided to rest in the shade of a boulder, ushered us to the top without her. Peregrine falcons’ mate for life re-establishing their bond each year with a month-long courtship of aerial acrobatics montanamouthful.com
featuring loops, swoops, and precise spirals. If the female likes what she sees, the male brings her evidence of his hunting prowess which she’ll receive by rolling over mid-flight and snatching from his talons. My daughter and I gaze over the Shenandoah Valley; Old Rag rising with its scrambles and granite exposures. Heading back down, we find Jess catching her breath on a log 10ft from the top. She’d continued alone; didn’t want to miss the view. Our daughter recites the falcon facts I’ve taught her as we watch the peregrines’ air show. I look proudly upon my wife as she looks proudly upon me. This may not immediately be recognized as courtship but it’s the part where we kiss.
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