Page 6 of Capture the Moment
Shouldn’t there be a sense of community? Camaraderie? Professionalism? Disappointed and a bit irked, Kate realized the peaceful, serene photography experience she had enjoyed at the zoo was nowhere to be found here. Reluctantly, she packed up her gear and left, feeling ousted by a clique of tripod-toting rivals. So much for capturing the tranquil beauty of nature.
“You need to get there by dawn,” the ranger said. “Actually, long before dawn.”
“Before dawn?”
“Yep. At least in the last few years, 399 has made an appearance around Pilgrim Creek in mid-May, during the early hours of the morning.”
“After living in a dark, cold den for months and months, I would think a bear would want to wait until the sun was high in the sky.” She rubbed her arms. “You know, warm up those bones.”
“You’d think so, but it’s just the opposite. Bears are generally more active during the cooler hours of the day. Especially in the height of summer. They seek out food and explore their surroundings when temperatures are lower.” He picked up the tripod as she set her camera in its case. “So I take it that you’re new here?”
“New to the park. And ... new to wildlife photography.”
He stopped and turned. “And you’ve chosen 399 as your subject?”
Sure did.“That’s the plan. I’m hoping to get a shot of her that hasn’t been taken. An angle that tells an untold story.”
He cleared his throat. “But you’re new to shooting wildlife?”
“I, uh, well, yes and no.” More no than yes. “I’ve been a photographer for a zoo.”
He stopped and turned to her, his eyes wide. “Azoo?” A rustle in the bushes hinted at a presence nearby and Kate froze. The ranger squinted. Nothing emerged. “Probably a bird.” His attention turned back to her. “So, let me get this straight. Your entire experience around wildlife is based on azoo?”
“It’s a pretty impressive zoo.”
“Oh, like the San Diego Zoo? I’ve heard that’s the top zoo in the country.”
“It is. But that’s not the zoo I’ve worked in.” Not by a long shot. “Different coast.”
Out of the bush came a small man, a large camera around his neck, to shush them. “Do. You.Mind.”
The ranger straightened his back. “Where’d you come from?”
“Take your party elsewhere,” the man said in a loud whisper. “There’s a bald eagle that should be feeding her young in that tree nest soon. I’ve been waiting an hour to snap a picture.”
“Oooh, I’d love to see that,” Kate said.
“You’re going to have to see it from the road level.” The ranger turned to the man. “Come on. Both of you. Away from the riverbank.”
The man muttered an unmentionable word under his breath but gathered his equipment. Still carrying Kate’s tripod, the ranger went up the steep embankment and waited until the small man staked out his new location. Then he started walking down the road to the turnout for cars. Kate followed behind,wondering if he was confiscating her equipment. He went a distance and then stopped to set up her tripod.
“Here,” he said. “This spot will give you the best vantage point to see all the way up and down the river.”
By now, the early morning sun had climbed high enough to paint the sky with its gentle glow, revealing the ranger in clear detail to Kate’s eyes. He was young. Early thirties? Late twenties? Definitely much younger than she first thought him to be. He was handsome too—not in aGQway like her boyfriend Oliver, but in a rugged, outdoorsy way. Square chin covered with stubble. Rich auburn hair that curled slightly over his collar. Roman nose. Nice lips. In his khaki uniform, weathered boots, and stern hat, he looked every inch like a park ranger. After testing the stability of the tripod, he lifted one hand to make the thumbs-up gesture. “You’re good to go, miss, or um, missus. Or, uh, ma’am.”
It was cute, how he stumbled over his words. “Kate,” she said. “Call me Kate. I’m Kate Cunningham.”
He glanced up for a moment, and their eyes met. Met and held. His gray eyes—the color of seawater—had smile crinkles at the edges. In those eyes she saw kindness and a hint of vulnerability. It surprised her, because his deep voice resonated a kind of grouchy authority.
He looked away, as if he could read her mind and was slightly embarrassed. “Since today’s supposed to be sunny, come back at dusk and you’ll see Mount Moran reflected in the river like a mirror.” He tipped his hat. “Have a good day, Kate Cunningham.”
He started to walk away but stopped and turned when she called out, “Hey! Hey, Ranger! What’s your name?”
“Grant Cooper.”
“Thank you, Ranger Cooper.”
He cleared his throat. “I go by Coop.”
