Although it was already the end of March, it was a terrible Tuesday morning at Laguna de Gallocanta. It was very windy (as always in this region), very cold (as almost always in this region), and a kind of sleet was falling that chilled the bones to the marrow. But none of that mattered. For the first time since I had visited this lagoon, I had found myself face to face with a small group of bustardsIt had taken four years to film them, but I finally succeeded. Want to know more about this story?
