Aquarellas

“The skies here in the extreme south of our planet are different from those anywhere else I have ever seen. There is something unaccountably vivid and luminous about the atmosphere, as if we were closer to the sun. The Austral sky feels like a huge overhead dome, with overlapping layers of sculptural clouds that form and re-form and undulate in slow motion like a massive living painting. The shapes and colors change from day to day and season to season, always astonishing the eye with their beauty.”—Chris Jordan

Beauty Emerging

By Chris Jordan

PATAGONIA Chile—(Hubris)—April 2025—My mother, Susan Elizabeth Jordan Huggins, was an accomplished watercolor painter. She painted from my father’s photographs, and as a child I remember sitting on a stool next to her studio table, watching her lay down layers of wet color in gestures she called washes. Starting with a dab of blue or purple, she would spread it across the wet paper so thinly that it would almost disappear, leaving a subtle color gradient that was always far more interesting than the pure pigment she started with. Her favorite subject was skies, and I know she would have loved to see and paint the gorgeous skies of Patagonia. I call these Austral sky photos aquarellas (watercolors) in memory of my sweet Ma.

The skies here in the extreme south of our planet are different from those anywhere else I have ever seen. There is something unaccountably vivid and luminous about the atmosphere, as if we were closer to the sun. The Austral sky feels like a huge overhead dome, with overlapping layers of sculptural clouds that form and re-form and undulate in slow motion like a massive living painting. The shapes and colors change from day to day and season to season, always astonishing the eye with their beauty. Before coming here, it had never occurred to me that the sky could be a significant factor in one’s quality of life. But for me living under the skies of Patagonia feels as spectacular as having a panoramic view of the Alps or Himalayas.

One remarkable feature of the skies here is that they contain zero planes or jet trails. There are no commercial jet routes over this whole part of the world, and our local airport is far enough outside of town that local flights are not heard or seen. Other than an occasional high-altitude military overflight, in my years here I have never seen any planes or jet trails. It is the only place I know of in the world where the skies are completely free of the visual pollution of commercial jet traffic. Having a natural sky overhead makes a surprisingly big difference to the whole feel of the place.