Page 18 of Capture the Moment

“Sad ones? Or happy ones?”

“Neither. Too sappy.”

“Look!” Maisie said. “Are those Clark nutcrackers?” She pointed to a couple of birds flitting about on the ground near them.

“Wrong. Gray jays. Also known as Canada jays. In the family of blue jays and crows and ravens.”

“But they’re so small.”

“Smaller, less noisy than their cousins. Tame too. They’ll eat out of your hands.”

Maisie drew closer to see their markings, and the birds seemed unfazed.

Eyes fixed on the bird, Frankie said, “Some think a gray jay’s whistle or chatter means a predator is nearby.”

She glanced up at Frankie. She had a hunch he liked being here more than he let on. She wanted to find out.

As they walked, they reached a scenic viewpoint overlooking String Lake. Her keen eyes caught sight of a large white bird gracefully gliding on the lake. “Is that a snowy egret?”

“Not even close.” Frankie raised an eyebrow. “Trumpeter swan. See the black bill? Black legs, too. Largest bird in the park.”

Her eyes widened. “It’s a beautiful bird.”

“Yeah. It’s one of the rare government success stories. Trumpeter swans used to be hunted so much they were endangered, but they’ve actually recovered their numbers.”

She could hear a hint of pride in his voice. Even though Frankie tried to act chill, Maisie could tell he loved sharing what he knew. And wow! Just wow. He knew a ton.

In fact, once Frankie finally started to talk, he didn’t stop. “You’ll see a lot of trumpeter swans around here. They like to breed and nest in the park. Anywhere there’s water, you’ll find them. Usually two together. They mate for life.”

“Oooh,” Maisie breathed as she clasped her hands over her heart. “Don’t you just love romantic moments in nature?”

A peculiar expression washed over Frankie’s face. “Don’t your cheeks hurt?”

“My cheeks?” Her hands clasped her cheeks.

“Yeah. From all that happiness.”

She pondered the question for a moment before responding solemnly, “Yes. Yes, sometimes they do.”

His eyes softened. And then a laugh burst out of him, first one and then another. His laughter was contagious, and soon,they were both laughing. It felt as though the sun had emerged from behind a cloud, casting a warm glow over them.

That was the moment when Maisie fell head over heels in love with Frankie. She didn’t even know his last name.

Zoo Girl.

The nickname had spread fast among the other photographers. Kate had heard their whispered snickers in the quiet of the chilly, predawn morning when she’d been at Pilgrim Creek to watch for the emergence of Grizzly Bear 399 from hibernation.

No sign of the bear.

Plenty of jabs at Kate’s inexperience.

She refused to let the other photographers get under her skin. It was like seventh grade all over again, when her parents sent her to a private school because she was falling behind in the public school. That first month was horrible—she ate lunch alone each day, she was the victim of all kinds of mean-girl pranks. The only way she survived was to act like she didn’t care a whit. And in a strange way, that worked. By month’s end, she started to get included at lunch, then invited to girls’ houses after school. Before long, she was one of them.

So, maybe it was time to pull out her old seventh-grade trick: acting like she didn’t care what people thought of her. Truth is, she did care—like, a lot. But what was the harm in pretending? She had nothing to lose, right? Cool and detached, that was going to be her new vibe.

Later that day, she stood on the banks of the Snake River at Oxbow Bend, adjusting her camera with precision. She focused on the task at hand—capturing untold stories through her camera lens. She’d noticed a spot on the river with so many otters that she was sure there was a den. Wearing waders, Kate started slowly walking into the river, with a plan to photograph the river otters close to home. They used dens, often abandonedburrows from other animals, to retreat and rest, to sleep, to give birth, to wait out inclement weather or avoid predators. Using her awesome zoom lens, she hoped to get some close-ups of the den, of otters coming in and out, from the river’s view.

As she stood in the middle of the river, she paused. About fifty feet away, two otters caught her eye, leisurely floating on their backs and gracefully passing each other. They seemed utterly at ease, like two friends lounging in a pool on inflatable mats. She quickly adjusted her lens and snapped a few shots, capturing the serene moment. In her mind, she playfully captioned the scene: “I’m fine. You?”

---