Friday, April 3, 2026
The Hybrid That Never Came to the Feeding Station
By Alejandro Rigatuso, Fundador y Director de Fundación Loros
Yesterday afternoon she was there, moving among the scarlets and the ararauna, drifting through the sanctuary with that peculiar quality of hers — never quite belonging to either side. Alberto spotted her, as he had so many times before, and thought nothing more of it. But when they returned at dusk, her place on the perches was empty. This morning, the trays of watermelon and papaya filled once again with red and yellow beaks, and the hybrid — that is what we call her, no proper name, the way you recognize someone by the way they walk — never showed up.
Alberto made his rounds through the enclosures and sent the photos: clusters of Ara macao squabbling over the fruit, the ararauna lined up along the wooden beams with a blue sky behind them, everything in order except for her. Seven photographs, not one with the hybrid in it. The report came in this morning, April 3rd, and we have her on our radar now. If she comes back, we'll know.
About the author
Alejandro Rigatuso · Fundador y Director de Fundación Loros
Alejandro Rigatuso arrived at Fundación Loros after years as Vice President of Growth Marketing at Toptal, bringing with him an unconventional perspective: he knows an animal is well by its eyes, "bright, wide open." Lorenzo, the first parrot released, recaptured several times and always set free to fly again, marked him forever. At dusk, around five-thirty, you'll find him at the Mirador de las Ciénagas or wandering around Cerro El Peligro, envisioning observation towers and hundreds of native parrots soaring over a reserve that an entire community calls their own.
