Jets are fine, but this is the way flying was meant to be.
Just as in the book "Jonathan Livingston Seagull", I'm convinced some birds fly just for the fun of it. Once at Bryce Canyon National Park, I was standing all alone at the edge of a cliff, when a little hawk flew up and hovered about twenty feet out over the canyon, locking eyeballs with me. All of a sudden, he folded his wings and dropped straight down like a bullet about five hundred feet. Just before he hit the rocks, he spread his wings, did about a 6g pull-up, traded speed for altitude, and came to a perfect hover exactly where he had started.
Once again he locked eyeballs with me and seemed to be saying, "Now you, Hotshot".