Page 5 of Capture the Moment

Maisie tilted her head, confused. “No, Mom, I don’t know. Why can’t we stay at Rebecca’s? I like it here.”

“Don’t sweat it so much, Maisie. Things are going to get better.” And off she went.

Right. Band-Aid better. Maisie knew Mom’s patterns.

She pulled the sheets off the bed and bundled them up in a pile, as Mom made trips back and forth to the car. Soon, the basement looked like it had when they’d first arrived.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Maisie said, looking around the roach-free basement that had been home for the last few weeks.

Rebecca came down the stairs to get the sheets. “It’s been nice to have you and your mom here. When my husband and I bought this house, we had a plan to create a spare room. We’ve been so blessed that we wanted to share our blessings. We wanted to create a place of respite. Provide a little extra help to someone we thought could use a helping hand or a fresh start. But somehow, we never got around to it. And then my husband passed away.” She looked around. “That was when I realized that good intentions weren’t enough. You have to turn them into reality. So, last year, I had the basement finished off. I added that little bathroom, had carpet installed, brought in some furniture. And then I prayed.”

“You prayed?” Pops did a lot of that.

“That’s right. I prayed for God to bring the right people into my life at just at the right time. So far, so good. You and your mom are my third guests.”

All code, Maisie thought,for your time is up. You’re not coming back.

Rebecca took the bundle of sheets out of Maisie’s arms and went back up the stairs. Halfway up, she stopped to poke herhead over the stair rail. “Why, it just occurred to me. You’re the first kid who’s stayed here.” Then she disappeared up the stairs.

Maisie’s smile faded. “I amnota kid.”

Through the window, she heard Mom give a warning toot on the car’s horn, so she dashed up the stairs. If she couldn’t stay in Rebecca’s cozy basement, then staying with Pops in the Grand Tetons was the next best place to be. Maybe the best place of all.

The day’s forecast was full sun, no clouds. Kate was up early to head over to Oxbow Bend. Here, the Snake River widened, winding and curving in such a way that it formed the unique oxbow shape that gave the bend its name.

From what Kate had read, this was an ideal place to spot wildlife. Dawn and dusk were the hours of the day when most wildlife was active, out and about. The slow-flowing, reflective waters and the lush vegetation attracted birds and mammals. Moose might be wading through the shallows, and beavers might be busy constructing their lodges along the riverbanks. According to Kate’s guidebook, anyway.

Being here, in person, beat the guidebook’s enrapturing description. She could definitely see why Oxbow Bend, with its scenic beauty and reflective properties, was a prime location, the most photographed spot in the entire Grand Teton National Park. She knew it was the beginner’s version to Grand Teton, but in many ways she was a beginner. To wildlife photography, anyway.

Down on the bank of the Snake River, Kate set up her tripod. She wasn’t sure if she was going to use it to stabilize her camera but wanted it nearby just in case. Lifting the binoculars around her neck, she scoped the small island in the center of the river. She thought she saw something and squinted, but she couldn’t see anything other than trees and bushes.

“You’ll have to move.”

Kate whirled around. A ranger stood behind her, hands on his hips. She couldn’t make out his face under his hat brim in the dim light, but his tone struck her as someone who hadn’t had his morning cup of coffee. “Why do I have to move?”

“Jackson Lake Dam is releasing water to manage snowmelt and runoff. Oxbow Bend is downstream of the lake. That means exceptionally high water levels in the Snake River today. Won’t be long until the bank you’re standing on will be submerged. You’ll be ankle high in water. Maybe knee high.”

She sighed. Okay. Sounded like this ranger knew what he was talking about.

“And a sow and her cub might be upriver. I’m not letting any shutterbugs get too close until I’m sure they’ve moved along.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “Could she be Grizzly Bear 399?”

The ranger shook his head. “She hasn’t been seen yet. Besides, you’re in the wrong area.”

“I know. I’ve read. I should be staked out at Pilgrim Creek.” She started to pack up her equipment.

“So why aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t find a spot to put my tripod.” Countless other photographers had claimed their turf. They were shockingly territorial. Kate had not been welcomed.

He softened a little. “What time did you try?”

“Last night, before sunset.” Kate had checked in at Jackson Lake Lodge and dropped her bags in her room. She was still practically buzzing with excitement over the animals she’d seen as she had arrived in the park, so she decided to head out again—three miles north to Pilgrim Creek. She had this picture in her head—she’d scout out the perfect little spot, set up her tripod, and just wait for the magic of the wilderness to unfold in front of her camera.

Turned out, she wasn’t the only one with that brilliant idea. Dozens of other wildlife photographers had beaten her to PilgrimCreek. There she was, thinking she’d waltz right in, only to find it was more like elbowing her way through a rock concert to get to the front row. Talk about a reality check.

In that moment, Kate discovered wildlife photography in Grand Teton National Park was a competition. It felt like a silent contest where everyone was vying for the best spot and nobody was willing to share. She had eyed a small opening between two photographers, their lenses nearly as tall as she was, and made her move. Nope, that space slammed shut before she could even introduce herself. She tried again elsewhere, but each time she found a potential spot, the gap suddenly closed. It was as if everyone was on a mission to block her out.

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