The beauty and vastness of Torres del Paine continually lured me deeper and deeper into the park. It was possible to wander far enough into the park, away from other travelers, that I lost all sense of being in a park; I felt that I was exploring some remote, yet-to-be-discovered place, far removed from modern life.
No matter how far I ventured into Torres del Paine, I was struck by the remarkable landscape. It’s a savagely beautiful place, marked by the spiky summit of the Cuernos Peaks and ancient glaciers. But there were haunting, unusual landscapes there as well, strangely beautiful places that put me in mind of some of the sun-scorched terrain of Namibia.
One morning’s explorations brought me to one of these strangely enchanting places. I found a field where the trees were scorched gray by sun and fire, leaving them gnarled and twisted. In the early morning, they were dusted with frost, giving them a still eerier appearance. They appeared to me to be twisted, imploring arms reaching toward the Cuernos Peaks in the distance. It seemed that virtually every living thing had departed from this place, and it was hauntingly beautiful.
I still had much more of Patagonia to explore, but I was finding it hard not to linger in each of the hidden places I found there. I still had miles to go, so I took my photographs of this haunted landscape, and packed my gear for the next destination at Torres del Paine.