Chapter Fourteen
Charlotte’s phone buzzed with a persistence that suggested urgency—or at least, the kind of urgency her editor, Tom, often infused into situations that hardly warranted it; his special ringtone was an elephant’s trumpet.
She eyed the screen, its light casting a glow on her desk filled with past issues of World of Wildlife and stacks of photo prints.
“Charlotte, there’s an assignment I’d like you on,” Tom’s voice crackled through the speaker, tinged with the kind of excitement that typically preceded something big. “Maine. We need you.”
“Maine?” she repeated, her pulse quickening at the prospect of new landscapes to capture, fresh wilderness to explore.
“There’s been sightings of a Canada lynx up there. It’s rare in the area. Could be huge for us.”
Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat; the elusive Canada lynx was a photographer’s dream subject. Without hesitation, she agreed, her adventurous spirit flaring up like a beacon guiding her toward this next journey. As soon as she hung up with Tom, she booked a flight for the next day.
With no direct flights from New York to Presque Isle Airport in northern Maine, the plane ride took a bit longer, but Charlotte didn’t mind.
She actually enjoyed flying. And the transition from the chaotic streets of New York to the serene skies en route to Maine was invigorating.
As the plane cut through cotton-candy clouds, Charlotte imagined the creature she was destined to capture through her lens—a ghost in the foliage, a whisper in the snowy underbrush.
Landing at the quaint airport, where the air carried the crisp scent of pine and sea salt, Charlotte felt a sense of homecoming despite never having stepped foot here before.
A car was waiting for her, but instead of heading to the hotel, she had the driver go straight to Aroostook State Park, where the lynx had been sighted.
When they arrived, the driver parked and helped her unload her gear.
Charlotte had hired him for the entire day, so he would wait for her return and then take her to her hotel.
Charlotte’s fingers were itching to adjust the settings on her camera, calibrate the lenses, and scout the perfect vantage point.
She walked into the park, following a trail that promised to lead her to a scenic overlook.
After walking about twenty minutes, she surveyed her surroundings, looking for any tracks in the dusting of snow that covered the ground.
She saw nothing but thought this was as good a spot as any to set up her tripod and wait.
Before she had even mounted her camera, there it was.
In the dappled light of the dense forest, a Canada lynx emerged, its tufted ears twitching, eyes piercing the landscape with regal indifference.
Charlotte’s breath caught in her chest as she raised her camera, her hands steady despite the thrill that coursed through her veins.
Click. The shutter immortalized the lynx’s solitary figure against the canvas of nature, a fleeting dance of shadow and mystique. In that fraction of a second, Charlotte knew she had captured more than just an image; she had captured the very essence of what it meant to be untamed and free.
As the lynx disappeared back into the thicket, leaving only paw prints dusted in the snow, Charlotte felt a kinship with the rare beauty she had just photographed.
Both wanderers in their own right, they were united by the wild call of Maine.
This was an assignment that was quickly proving to be everything she had hoped for and more.
Tom’s eyes widened, his lips parting in an awed smile as he scanned through the series of photographs that Charlotte had emailed him. The images were breathtaking, each one a pristine capture of raw wilderness, but it was the close-up shots of the Canada lynx that truly stole the show.
FaceTiming with her, he exclaimed, “Charlotte, these are incredible!” His voice held a mixture of excitement and disbelief. “I mean, the clarity, the composition—you’ve outdone yourself.”
A modest grin played on Charlotte’s lips, her cheeks coloring with the compliment. She leaned back against the sofa. The thrill of the day’s success still danced in her bright eyes, a testament to her passion for wildlife photography.
“Thanks, Tom,” she replied, her gaze lingering on the photos almost as if she couldn’t believe they were her own work.
“It was pure luck, honestly. One minute I was setting up my gear, double-checking the lighting, and the forest around me was just a symphony of nature sounds. Then, before I could even attach my camera to the stand, there it was.”
She paused, the memory vivid in her mind.
“The lynx, it just … appeared. Like a ghost, silent and majestic, right there in the clearing.” Her hands mimicked the moment, hovering midair to illustrate the sudden presence of the elusive creature.
“It stood directly in front of me, ears perked, those piercing eyes locked onto something beyond my sight.”
Tom nodded, completely engrossed in her retelling. He knew that sound of hers, the way her voice took on a reverent hush when she spoke about the wilderness; it was the same one she’d had when they first met, and he’d asked her why she chose to photograph animals in their natural habitat.
“Did you manage to stay calm?” he asked, though the evidence was right there in the sharpness of the lynx’s fur, the subtle glint in its eye—all captured perfectly in her frame.
“Surprisingly, yes.” Charlotte chuckled, her fingers brushing absentmindedly over the viewfinder. “I held my breath, moved slow, real slow. … It felt like ages, but it must have been only seconds. And then, click.” She mimicked pressing the shutter button. “Got it.”
“More than got it,” Tom corrected warmly, his admiration for her skill and serendipity clear. “You’ve got a gift, Charlotte. Not everyone can see the world through a lens the way you do, and make others feel like they’re right there with you.”
Her smile deepened at his words, a fusion of pride and gratitude. There, amidst the scattered prints and the lingering scent of pine, Charlotte had felt a surge of fulfillment. Nature had offered her a rare gift that day, and she, in turn, had captured it to share with the world.
She had a full day and had an early flight back to New York in the morning. She signed off on the call and got ready for bed. Sleep came easy as she relived the day in her mind, a smile on her lips. She was living the life she’d always dreamed of.