I have arrived at Torres de Paine National Park. My four days here have been strange for many reasons, one of which is imminent access to internet in the wilderness. There is also an eerie light at 11:30 at night and, fabulously, tea time.
I could say many things about this strange life that combines tent-dwelling with lounging in a high class hotel, but for now I want to reserve most of my commentary for my observation of Patagonian birds. Specifically, I want to observe that THESE BIRDS ARE THRILL SEEKING DANGER ADDICTS.
Nathaniel does not condone this claim, stating, and I quote, "There is no logic in the anthropomorphism of birds." However, I cannot help it, given the ridiculous weather in the Region de la Ultima Esperanza. The wind hear gusts at upwards of 100 miles per hour. Impelled by this preposterous force, the avian of life of Patagonia is wont to plummet horizontally across the ragged contours of the earth at velocities far greater than those induced by gravity. They careen through rain and sleet and wind and snow, and there is no way they are not having fun.
Sometimes I wish I could be a bird in Patagonia. That is all.
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