a muscular rolling twitch of his wings , bracing forward at the shoulders , careening through his dive , feathers tamped flat against his body , turning into a flat glide , banking around the orchard rows , screaming for the sheer joy of being young , leaving a vacuum , a stillness in his wake , effortless in flight , glider the young cooper hawk slipped past the ends of the orchard rows below tree top level scanning the ground with no real interest in hunting that morning .