Hello Sunshine

Her camera's back in the bag for now, so that specific eagle will have to go undocumented. There'll be others. She shifts her gear around to get the weight more conveniently distributed, checks the map one more time, and sets out.

Pebbles crunch under her boots, but other than that there's mostly silence; the chittering of unseen creatures is dying down as all the little crepuscular beasties settle in to nap through the heat of the day. In between all the minutiae of the craft, the last song from the radio now stuck in her head, and the "I haven't forgotten anything, right?"s, there's always one thought that's close to Corrie's mind.

I can't believe they give me money for this.

 

You think you have everything.

The day starts off slow, a relaxing pace across the rocky terrain, taking in the sights, the smell of the air, the surprising activity of the wildlife .. this place is still full of life.

Why does everyone think deserts are just an empty expanse of heat and nothing? They're beautiful, and another sign that life can survive anywhere, with determination and resourcefulness.

 

This isn't technically a maintained trail, but enough people have traveled to this particular overlook that there's something of a beaten path, free of rocks and creosote. Corrie even notes a couple sets of tire tracks, with some irritation. Lazy, inconsiderate assholes. Not that the potential appeal of seeing all this from the comfort of air conditioning is lost on her, but there are roads for a reason.

Eh. She'll likely be at the overlook before that subject can annoy her too much.

 

(( May I please have a wits + composure roll when you can? ))

 

((3 successes))

 

While you're glowering at the tire tracks, you also spot a selection of bullet cases, and a few shards of broken glass... it looks like they weren't here for just the sights.

 

That's even more annoying to Corrie, and her first impulse is that park management should hear about it, but is this even illegal? She looked up the laws and rules of the preserve before she came and she's pretty sure that guns are allowed, and that firing them is only banned in... some areas, she doesn't recall off the top of her head which ones. There are definitely things you're not allowed to shoot, but there don't seem to be any dead things or parts thereof in sight, as far as she can tell?

She settles for checking the GPS and noting the spot, then scooping the casings into a pocket so she can show them to someone if need be.

Jerks.

 

The casings are warm, but that's probably just from the desert sunshine. Ah well. They shouldn't be littering, that's for sure.

Still, you've got a straight shot to what looks like a great vantage point in the distance - hopefully you can get some fantastic landscape shots.

 

There's no sense burning daylight over some irresponsible park-goers, really. Every moment, the sun climbs and the air heats up and she'd like to find a decent spot with a little shade before it gets much hotter. Onward and... well, really just onward, this is a very flat path.

 

A vulture wings overhead as you continue your trek.

It's a dry heat, not so pleasant, but it's one you can live with, especially with all the water you brought. You sweat, but it's not an oppressive, damp heat. It's tiring, but it's all worth it, especially as you reach the outcrop you were heading for in excellent time.

 

...yep, she was right: this is an excellent location. Corrie sets her bags down on a handy rock, takes a few more good-sized sips, and starts putting the tripod back up. What to shoot first? Mmm... go with the horizon, just because that's where the camera happened to start out pointing.

 

She can see ruins of some kind of large encampment, in one direction, with signs that demand NO TRESPASSING ...

In the other, the landscape is gorgeous, catching the light... and..

Oh, wow.

What is that?!?

 

No Trespassing signs aren't most people's idea of natural beauty. The magazine won't want them, but stock collections can definitely find uses for that kind of forbidding, tumbledown aesthetic. She's just starting to refocus in that direction when she sees-

Oh, wow. That's just. Perfect framing, perfect everything. Never mind the camp for now, instead she carefully centers the tree in its hollow, takes the shot. Swaps in a zoom lens for another, takes a "closer" shot.

 

Someone's watching her from behind the tree.

The vanish after you take the picture.

 

Corrie blinks, looks again. No one's there. She flips open the camera's LCD screen and clicks back to the last picture- is there anything but the tree in that?

 

No. I. I mean. Maybe there's kind of. A smudge? But... no, there's no person.

 

Corrie frowns, but... it's certainly hot enough now for mirages to form. This doesn't especially look like one of those, but it doesn't look like much of anything else either. Anyway, she'll retake the shot because smudges are bad. Then she'll grab a handful or two out of the trail-mix bags because tasty things are kind of reassuring.

 

She sees it again, an unsteady flicker that ducks back behind the tree... but this time the picture comes out perfectly.

 

That makes Corrie even more uneasy. Mirages are actual things the light and the hot air do; they show up in photographs. She wipes sweat away, even though she doesn't seriously think it was in her eyes when she saw whatever it was. Crunches up another banana chip. Drinks more water. Random flickers aren't the most worrying thing ever, but there aren't really any bad reasons to take good care of yourself.

She has the good shot now, anyway. Maybe she should just grab a few of that apocalypse-chic encampment in the other direction.

...Maybe after that, she'll turn back to the tree and get out the really serious zoom lens. Just to get a better look, through the viewfinder.