Sheep farmer, or gaucho, of Patagonia’s Chubut Province. Because of Patagonia’s tempestuous wind he could not wear the typical black hat of the Pampa’s gauchos to the north. Only headgear he could pull down to his ears.
In 1984, reaching the crest
of a hill while riding a horse across Patagonia between the coasts of Argentina
and Chile, a sudden head-on blast made my horse pirouette 180 degrees as if it
had been a mere flag.
The tempestuous wind apart, the
journey went like a charm. At the end of most 12-hour rides a lonely gaucho in
charge of a sheep farm treated me to wine and a succulent barbecue. And my
saddle, like his, was cushioned by a thick sheep skin.
The wives of the lonely gauchos in charge of the sheep estancias lived in distant towns, forced there by the need of their families’ children to attend school.
The wives of the lonely gauchos in charge of the sheep estancias lived in distant towns, forced there by the need of their families’ children to attend school.
Buried under their own wool, corralled sheep await
the shears.
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