We crouched down, enjoying the little owls from a couple feet away. They appeared slightly perturbed however made no transfer to fly away or vanish down a hole.
Burrowing owls. I have spent some time looking for burrowing owls around my house in Idaho.
Here I was on the flooded grasslands of Colombia, a land of anteaters and capybaras.
Burrowing owls were everywhere.
This was years ago, my very first international project for The Nature Conservancy. I spent a month in Colombia, dealing with personnel to help communicate their conservation programs to funders and TNC members. I invested a week of that time exploring Los Llanos, an apparently unlimited meadow occupied with spread livestock ranchers. Those ranchers had suffered a duration of horrific violence, never ever knowing when a paramilitary group may appear and kill them and their households. It occurred to friends. If sharing the mornings news, they told the stories as. Matter of fact. The violence hung over everything but still, one rancher told me, they had all this. He gestured around, to the limitless skies and flocks of waterfowl and herds of capybara.
Those ranchers were eager to share that, taking us horseback riding throughout the grasslands that extended to the sky. It was, maybe, the flattest land I had actually ever seen, perfect for someone having my dubious riding skills.
Within minutes of my very first horseback flight, we saw the burrowing owls. I love owls and perhaps none is as charismatic as this species. They have those huge eyes that make them impossibly adorable.
© Andres Montoya Arango/TNC Photo Contest 2022
We had actually been in Los Llanos a number of days when we checked out another rancher, and she too wanted to show us owls. Her ranch had more owls than you may believe possible. We sneaked close. A grin spread on her face. We watched them from simply a couple feet away. Fearless. Much like the rancher herself, it ends up.
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Within minutes of my first horseback trip, we saw the burrowing owls. We had actually been in Los Llanos a number of days when we visited another rancher, and she too desired to reveal us owls. Her cattle ranch had more owls than you may think possible. When she was a girl, growing up on Los Llanos, shes slip out and catch the burrowing owls by hand. One early morning, riding out on the ranch, inspecting on the cattle and the owls, it struck her.
When she was a girl, maturing on Los Llanos, shes slip out and catch the burrowing owls by hand. Hold them, examine them, provide a little pat. Set them totally free. She laughed at the memory of it. She liked the little owls. She loved this life, out on the open plains where anything appeared possible.
She dreamed of having a ranch of her own. Women do not end up being ranchers; they marry them.
The early morning after the wedding, her rancher-husband saddled up a horse and rode off across the horizon, disappearing into the flat, flat landscape. She strolled out throughout the grass to the nearby tree, climbed it and looked.
For 3 weeks, she repeated the routine, climbing up the tree, scanning. Overcome with dread and worry. Heartsick.
Livestock on the Colombia Llanos. © Erika Nortemann/TNC
And after that he was back. Bloodshot eyes and reeking of booze. He d been partying. For 3 weeks. I do not require to tell you that this is not an incredible method to begin a marriage.
He made the anticipated pledges and apologies, then did it again. And again. Drinking, gaming, cockfighting, carousing. Multiple affairs. There was a great possibility he took it to excess if there was a vice.
One early morning, riding out on the cattle ranch, inspecting on the livestock and the owls, it struck her. She would have her ranch. Anything was possible again.
She got to work, established a prosperous cattle ranch, broadened it. She stood firm as the area was involved in dispute amongst a confusing mix of ultra-violent people, the FARC and narcos and paramilitaries. She worked hard, managed what she could. Did things her way.
Native savanna in the Colombian Llanos © Erika Nortemann/TNC
She revealed us a tamandua, a types of tree-climbing anteater. We watched endemic Orinoco geese. And we stopped for owls.
Later on, we likewise stopped to satisfy her spouse. Her cattle ranch was lucrative and she wanted to keep it that way. She built him a cockfighting ring and facility, so she might watch and put in some procedure of control over his various dependencies.
She had a ranch and that grass that reached out to the sky. Livestock and capybaras, big meals on the terrace as the sun set. She had owls.
