High on a cliff at the end of a continent buffeted by winds, the negative image of an albatross stands. Cut by a torch from tempered steel, it seems to gather the colors of the rainbow into itself. Sucked from the south, from the land we left behind, a quilt of brilliance is in turn cast over the shores that hold us now. A hint of its palette could be seen in the glimmer of sunlight bounced back to our awaiting gaze twenty-four hours ago but the full power of its spell came into play today.
Embraced by the arms of muscled rocky walls, the water is no longer ebony, no longer a seemingly endless depth reaching to infinity but a light and lifting turquoise blue frosted with dancing white. Pulverized particles, mountainous boulders ground to fine dust by the movement of ice, scatter the short wavelength light. Around us, rain passes in waves, undulating in patterns against the contorted and twisted stone. Our Zodiacs skim close to the edges where glacial tongues still lap. Drifting spores and seeds seem to wait for their retreat, taking hold and bursting with the energy of life to splash the shores with greens. In cloaks of forest green, emerald green, lime green, pale green, yellow green, verde and chartreuse, leaves and lichens present themselves for our caressing touch as we walk on the land and climb through the trees. Flames of scarlet erupt from the hillside. Firebush captures memories of the past, of days when native peoples paddled their fire-filled canoes, of days when their land was named Tierra del Fuego. The blossoms echo the color of our coats.
