Briggs: I didn’t stick around, but Jake had his shirt off. They were laughing. Standing close. That kind of thing.
Tessa: WHAT?
Kelsey: I KNEW IT!!
Cade: Is this the kind of stuff you girls talk about all day on here?
Logan: I think freaking Jake’s a liar.
9
SHELBY
With the camerastrap around my neck, I lined up my shot, keeping my body as still as possible while my fingers moved the dials. The sunrise over the mountains and the Salmon River had lured me out of bed two hours earlier than usual. The overlook Jake had told me about had been fairly easy to get to, if you count three steep switchbacks easy, but the view had been worth it, just like he said. The mama moose and her calf, drinking in the river down below, had been a bonus for my efforts.
Since moving back to Eugene after college, I’d discovered an old camera of my mom’s in a box in the basement. There had been a few things of hers saved for me that I’d been given over the years. Some clothes. A couple of scarves. Her books. But I’d never felt such an instant connection to anything like I had when I’d first picked up her camera. It was just an old SLR film camera, but I immediately began scouring websites and searching for tutorials and classes on photography.
It had come at a good time. Basketball had been my whole life’s hobby, but as a coach in Eugene, it became a job. Photography had provided me with a creative outlet that I hadn’t realized I needed. After some trial and error, I begantaking pictures of friends and family until I built up a little name for myself, even taking on a few weddings. Over time, though, I became more interested in nature photography, specifically the kind that didn’t have grumpy husbands or high-maintenance mothers of the brides attached. But until recently, I hadn’t imagined a world where nature photography could pay my bills.
I was too high for the shot I wanted of the moose. I wanted to showcase the grand mountains in comparison to the animals, so I scrambled down from my perch and began a light jog down the mountain trail while attempting to keep my camera bouncing to a minimum.
I had already been given the office manager position for theWild Horizon Magazineoffice starting in September, but I checked the website daily for photography openings. I was usually disappointed.
Until yesterday afternoon.
I immediately emailed my boss at the office and asked her about the position, and she said she’d love for me to apply and that she’d call me this morning with more information. But from what I could tell, the position was for a wildlife/photojournalist photographer. It was a long shot, but I wanted to try for it.
The only problem was, nature photography was a completely different beast from portrait. And I needed to practice. Hence, my early morning shoot after a late night on the court with Jake.
I found a safe spot I deemed perfect, tucked between two trees, and peered out at the moose and her calf. The sunlight dappled through the trees. And now, with the moose on the river, the light reflected off their backs like a halo.
The jagged mountains on both sides. The river. The moose. The back light.
It was perfect.
For the record.It was not perfect.
It was so beyond not perfect it wasn’t even funny.
Arriving home, I couldn’t wait until tonight to load the pictures onto my computer. I waited impatiently for them to load, certain I’d be submitting them toTimemagazine for the best picture ever taken by anyone in the world, before my illusions were rapidly swept away when I remembered that I was just a self-taught novice with a dream.
I’d been so absorbed in framing the scene that I hadn’t adjusted my settings properly for each shot. Some pictures were too dark, and even with the power of an exposure adjustment, it lessened the quality too much for me to be proud. The light bouncing from the water aggressively glared off the picture. I should have framed the moose differently, more to the left or right, for a more interesting composition.
Deflated but an overall more humbled human being, I showered and washed my hair before spending sixty minutes of torture, drying and straightening my curls into submission.
I dressed in jeans and a tank top before taking a bowl of cereal out onto the porch, greeted again by the crisp and dewy summer morning. I planned to be out early enough to help Jake with the feeding this morning. And as much as I hated my camera right now, I obviously needed the practice. Maybe I could get a few good shots of Jake lifting hay bales. It would definitely attract a younger audience to this place.
Bypassing the rocking chair that sat out front, I opted to sit on one of my porch steps. To my right, Jake’s cabin door squeaked open, and Sophie walked out with a bottle of bubbles.I heard Jake’s voice call something to her from the kitchen, to which she replied distractedly, “Okay.”
The screen door shut, leaving her jumping from step to step until she reached the bottom of the stairs. I smiled at her outfit. A princess dress with purple leggings on underneath and pink cowboy boots rounding out the look. Her blonde hair was a tangle, and she had what looked like a smear of jam on her cheek. She took a moment to unscrew the bottle lid and got to work blowing an impressive fleet of bubbles.
Admittedly, kids were as foreign to me as makeup was in high school. So far, any interactions I’d had with Sophie, coming and going from our respective cabins, had been minor. Most resulted in her either ignoring my wave or shyly hiding behind Jake’s back. My brain told me that I should just stay here and wave, but this was Jake’s daughter. It felt strange being so connected to him but having nothing to do with the most important person in his life.
I swallowed my last bite of cereal for fortification and stood.
“Hey, Sophie,” I tried to mimic the way Kelsey Williams talked to her young children at the campfire, and by nature, the octave in my voice went up a few notches.
She whirled around and gave me a piercing stare, which made me stop in my tracks.