30. Logan
30
LOGAN
It takes a moment for me to remember where I am before I start my day. I know I’m not home with Daphne, but that’s where I want to be.
“Why did I think I wanted to do all these festivals this month?” I groan, rolling to my side to take in the view out the window. “This sucks.”
I’m doing this because it will enable me to sell many of the pictures I take to publications, companies, and websites immediately. The photos not snapped up with exclusive licenses I can put on stock photo sites for use on blogs or book covers. I’m also researching uploading images to an online portal that allows them to be printed on surfaces like mugs, pillows, shirts, whatever people want. I want to have my photos create an income for us without having to travel constantly. My family is wealthy, and Andy and I and our cousins have trust funds. Liam and I are old enough to access the funds, but we both plan on leaving them to grow for the future. Pierre has invested some of mine. I could support us on my trust fund, but we were raised to work and have careers. I want to be able to earn enough with my photography to be able to support Daphne and our family. Maybe this way, I can have a future with Daphne, with us both in the same hemisphere more often than not, ideally in the same bed.
I feel the call of nature, so I get my butt out of bed and enter the bathroom. The tile work is busier than my style, but I like the color combination of shades of tan and green. The bathroom attached to our bedroom back home could use an update. I think I’ll suggest this color combo to Daphne.
“Dude, you look like crap,” I tell my reflection while I wash my hands. I haven’t been sleeping well. One week of sharing a bed with Daphne has ruined me for sleeping alone. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t sleep without someone in bed beside me before. Other than Daphne, I haven’t shared a bed with anyone since my few flings in college, and that wasn’t the same. I grab my phone off the nightstand and unlock it to see if there are any new texts from Daphne. My heart sinks. No texts. Even though we messaged last night before I turned in. Now that it’s the weekend, we should be able to FaceTime more. I’m eager to see her face.
“What’s this?” I click on the notification that Daphne has posted a video. It’s public, so I’m praying she didn’t post something personal by accident. We’ve been sending each other flirty videos that are progressively getting hotter. Clicking the link, I see Daphne’s smiling face, and I can’t help but smile in response. She’s outside, but I’m uncertain where.
“Hi! I’m Daphne, and today I’m going to share with you the Eco Trail at the Wildlife Refuge in Shifting Pines, New Jersey. I hope you enjoy experiencing this how I see it. If you’d like to be notified when I upload future tours, be sure to give me a thumbs up below and follow the link to sign up for my email newsletter to get more information on the places we explore.” The view then switches to what Daphne sees. She must be wearing a head-mounted camera. Where’d she get that?
She steps onto the trail and starts speaking. “The Eco Trail is right past the visitor center and before the start of Wildlife Drive. It straddles marshland and forest. If you’re at the refuge in the warmer months, beware that it is very buggy, with mosquitoes, gnats, and greenhead flies. It’s November now, so bugs aren’t much of an issue, thank goodness. You’ll always want to take precautions against ticks. This trail has two paths. First, we’ll follow the boardwalk along the marsh. In the distance, across Reeds Bay, you can see the skyline of Atlantic City. Yes, this gem of nature is just miles away from the casinos of Atlantic City.” She walks both forks of the trail, explaining what she sees, pointing out flora and fauna, reminiscing how she used to walk these trails with her parents, pointing out a plank she purchased as part of a fundraiser for the refuge and had engraved with her parents’ names as part of the boardwalk.
I didn’t know she’d done that.
“Wow, Daph, you’re doing it,” I murmur, my eyes glued to the video. She’s so warm and personable, it feels like I’m there with her. I’ve never walked this trail or flown over this part of the wildlife refuge, but she’s being so descriptive and informative, it’s easy to imagine what it’s like. She also lets nature speak. She doesn’t feel the need to chatter constantly, so I can hear the leaves rustling and birdsong. I like that she doesn’t pretend to be an expert. She admits when she sees a bird she can’t identify and encourages viewers to share their best guesses in the comments. I’m so proud of her. I know she doesn’t enjoy being on camera, but she worked out a way to do it without that being necessary. I’m assuming she had company—probably Mallory—because I can’t imagine she’d walk around talking to herself. She gave a tour, just like she always dreamed of doing. I feel the sting of tears, and my throat tightens. If she could do this by herself, I can imagine how great she’d do if she had a group to lead and interact with. She posted the video last night, and it has a couple hundred views so far. I’m sure her friend Shelby is helping spread the word.
“Let’s get you more viewers, sunshine,” I say as I share the video on my personal social media and in a few photography and tourism groups I’m in. This deserves to be seen by as many people as possible. It’s the middle of the night for Daphne, so I don’t message her. I grab a notepad from my carry-on and discover the envelope that arrived in the mail the day I left home. I’d forgotten all about it. It’s a flyer for a photo tourism company in Michigan. They must have bought a mailing list from a photography supply business because I’ve never heard of them. Their flyer isn’t that good, but they have a website, and I have free time, so I grab my laptop and check it out.
They offer classes to teach people how to use photo editing software and how to use their cameras. I’m not their target audience. I already know that stuff.
“Hell, I could teach these classes,” I mutter to myself.
I scroll further down the page and see that they host photo retreats. Intrigued, I click and am taken to a page showing pictures of Michigan lighthouses, a few wildlife shots, and landscapes. They take groups of photographers to these sites for photographic opportunities and then help them edit their shots to achieve the best images possible. Hmm.
There’s a nice selection for breakfast. I think. Truthfully, I barely notice the food, though I eat. I’m writing furiously in my notebook—things to research, questions, ideas. I have a lot of things to investigate and consider, but I think a photo tourism business back home in New Jersey could be successful. There is so much in the area that would make a great subject—the lighthouses Daphne visited, wildlife at the refuge and in the Pine Barrens, houses in Cape May, the ocean. Just sitting here, I thought of five tours I could do. Even a tour for shifters because we’d be able to access areas difficult for humans to reach. There are gear bags specially developed for shifters so they can shift, carry their equipment, and shift back to human form to take the shot. Since I’m an eagle shifter, I can get a literal bird’s-eye view.
Could I use that to help Daphne with her videos? I probably look crazy with my mad scribbling and mumbling to myself, but I’m excited. If I can get this off the ground—I snort-laugh at my unintended pun—I’ll be well on the way to setting up the life I want to have with the woman I love.