This painting of California Condors is an acrylic dry-brush done by my father. It sits on the mantle in my living room and reminds me of the condors I have seen. All were in captivity in the L.A. or San Diego Zoos back in the day when the captive breeding program had just begun. Here we were at the Grand Canyon and my eagle-eyed bird-man was on alert. Unfortunately, all he could find was a sign about not throwing pennies and coins over the cliff because condors might eat them and be poisoned.
As we left the sunset to look for the shuttle bus back to the Village, we came upon a ranger with telemetry equipment and she pointed to the spot where a father condor had stopped and the spot where his 18 month old daughter was perched.
The daughter was born in a cave on the back side of this rock formation. Which raises the question about what kind of job qualifications those who enter the cave must need. Not only would they have to be rock climbers, but along with attaching the radio transmitter to a shoulder they would have to have taken a blood test in order to say it is a female. The ranger also had a binder with pictures of flying condors. I loved this one near the Watchtower that we had just seen that morning.
By dark, nobody flew for us but we came back the next morning hopes high. No luck. The thermals probably hadn’t had enough time to develop. We had a few more stops to see.
The Lookout Studio (another building by Mary Colter) right on the rim.
“Do nothing to mar its grandeur for the ages have been at work on it and man cannot improve it. Keep it for your children, your children’s children, and all who come after you.”
Note: two days later, Terry was bird watching in Red Rock State Park near Sedona. He and his fellow bird watcher, Darrell, met some tourists from Canada who had been at the Grand Canyon two days before us. They saw seven condors flying over the Village. Salt meet wound.
Oh, well, still on the bucket list…