Media Centre for Patagonia Research and Exploration

Nick Sheppard

Like the cheer of a million fans without pause, the wind brushes Chaquenitas`Canyon.

Thin whispy cirrus clouds filter out the vibrant hues of strawberries, mangos and bananas.

The shadows concealing the nooks of the canyon walls are drained of their darkness as the plains of the Patagonian steppe roll into the lemon light of another day.

An electric blue lazer zips past my left shoulder. Adjusting to the grating volcanic boulders the Blue and White Swallow exemplifies a dynamic zen flight over the cliff edge.

In contrast, the awkward jerky creep of a shinny black dung beetle navigates the indentations of my boot print in the sand. The harsh thickets of divaricating shrubs, thorny brambles and tufts of tussock provide an eccentric microcosm for this stadiums naturena.

Blotches of guano, like buckets of white paint spilled from the volcanic scaffolding above, direct my scope to the faces` biggest avian guardians.

Vulture gryphus, the Andean Condor, flank the condorera with their enormous black and white feathered bodies. Their wrinkly weathered skin heads accentuate the beauty of their fluffy ermine collar.

Similarly, the awkward roosting positions unjustify the elegance of their aerial form.

Analysing each resident for age and sex I wonder if I am looking at Chaque himself: the satellite tagged, captive raised condor that led researchers to the once anonymous condor refuge.

One by one they lift off the face, without a single flap they effortlessly pitch, dive, bank, yaw and stall at will. If only one could see the strings connecting the majestic bio-gliders to their heavenly puppet master above. Then maybe I could understand why Juveniles occasionally miss their landing ledge like a wrecking ball in these westerly gusts.

As sand blows to my eye, blink by grainy blink, their whale fluke silhouettes disappear, steppe by Patagonian steppe.

Nick Sheppard