Soaring high over the Arizona desert, condors search the landscape for meat. Anything will do: a gut pile left by a hunter; a lightning killed bison; or a tourist falling over the edge of the Grand Canyon.
On an autumnal drive through northern Arizona, my Uncle Gerry Gagnon and I turned off a highway to the House Rock condor viewing area. The white guano-stain marks, just beneath the nests of the great birds, can be seen with the naked eye from miles away. The dark spots, against the blue sky, are condors. They glide swiftly and seemingly without effort. They fly alone or with a partne...
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