Prologue
On a mountain top overlooking Trinity Lake in upstate California, there is a viewing platform that, if stood upon at just the right moment, would give the viewer the most amazing spectacle as the sun broke over the distant horizon, its reflection sparkling off the crystal-clear waters of the lake far below. On this fine spring morning, when the light had just taken on that ever-brightening tinge of sapphire, signalling the approaching end to another night, a young girl stood anxiously next to her father, holding his camera in her hands, her face not quite tall enough to see over the handrail. The camera looked much too big for her small fingers and the neck strap sat taught across her shoulders. Her sister stood nearby, her new camera sitting atop its tripod, her hands firmly holding onto the remote shutter release her dad had set up. Harry Bellingham wore an expression on his face that spoke more than just “I’m happy to be here”. It said more than “I am proud to be your father”. What his expression conveyed in volumes was that he was proud that his girls were happy. Samantha had just turned 9 the previous day and had been anxiously asking for a camera for her birthday for the past 5 months.
“Please Daddy. I know I can be responsible with it,” she would say almost nightly when he tucked her in to bed. Trixie would hear them from her room next door and would often tell her father that he should consider it.
“She is very responsible, Daddy,” she would tell him, backing her sister to him. He loved how they were with each other. Like best friends. He had done it tough since their mum passed just after Trixie was born. She had turned 7 the month before and the past 6 years had been the toughest of his life. But he was trying his hardest and sharing his passion for photography with them had brought them closer together and closer to each other. Samantha had finally received her first real camera yesterday and he had tried his hardest to hold his tears in as she tore the wrapping from the box the previous night.
Samantha had carefully unpacked it, then shared the excitement with Trixie, holding the box above her head like a fight-winning prize fighter, finally victorious. They had sat on the floor facing each other, carefully unboxing it, taking each component out, inspecting it then handing it back and forth between each other. The instructions and the warranty card they had handed to their Dad, a serious look on Sami’s face as she watched him tuck them into pocket.
“Those we send back to the people that make the camera. Just in case there was something wrong with it,” he had said to them, and he smiled a little when he saw Sami’s expression change a little, a deep concerned line appearing across her forehead at the thought of her camera having something wrong with it.
She now stood in the predawn light, wrapped in a windbreaker and beanie, looking out over the lake below them, proudly holding the shutter release, the camera ready for action. Harry had set the camera with the right settings, had Sami take some sample shots then had checked the images with both girls. He had done the same to his own then much to Trixie’s surprise, slung the neck strap around her neck, her eyes lighting up as he handed her the big Canon. She held it tight to her chest, her Cheshire grin only eclipsed by her father’s above her. She loved her Dad. And she loved her sister. And now, standing on the mountain top in what seemed to her to be like the middle of the night was what a 7-year-old would remember as magical when she would look back on this moment in the years to come.
“Bet you can’t take a photo of the sun coming up,” Sami suddenly whispered to her sister.
“I bet you can’t take a photo of the sun coming up over the water,” she had replied.
“And I bet you can’t take a photo of the sun coming up over the water with a bird flying by,” Trixie whispered back.
“Sounds like a challenge,” Harry had said to them and then looked toward the horizon, the sky beginning to show the tell-tale signs of an impending dawn. The sky began to lighten from the dark ocean blue to light purple to a dull yellow then a bright orange. A couple of clouds drifting in the sky seemed to become emblazoned with fiery orange, a deep almost red around their edges.
“Get ready, girls.” Harry whispered to the girls and they both focused in the distance, their cameras at the ready. “Here it comes,” he finally said, kneeling down between them, and the first twinkle of sunshine came rushing over the land, the lake beginning to reflect rays of cheerful yellow of its almost mirror surface. Samantha had begun clicking, her look intense, her eyes filled with joy. Trixie was about to start snapping when she heard the cry of an eagle in the distance, somewhere below them. She scanned the land below, trying to find it. It cried again, a little closer and Trixie saw, with amazement, that it was a big bald eagle, rising above the waters of the lake. She pointed, found it in her view-finder, half pressed the button to focus it, then pressed it completely, the camera whirring into life, snapping repeatedly, 3, 4, 5 pictures. When she had taken enough, she jumped up and down.
“I got it. I got it, Daddy,” she cried, overjoyed. “Sami, I got the bird. And the sunrise. And the lake.” Harry reached for his camera, turned it over and pressed the playback button, the pictures popping into view. The third one turned out to be her “money shot”. The lake sitting in the background, the sun roaring to life off to one side, and there, right in the middle of the frame, with its wings spread wide, floated a proud eagle. Trixie hooted a little when she saw it, jumping again.
“Beginners luck,” Sami had replied, but put her arm around her little sister. Harry stood, looked at his girls and smiled, that proud expression never leaving his face. What ran through his mind at that moment was the realisation that he was on the right track, raising the girls the way he was supposed to. They loved each other and he loved them. Trixie looked up at her Dad grinning and he gave her a thumbs up. She had the look of someone that had just won the Nobel prize. She was proud. She felt accomplished and above all she felt happy.
They had stayed on that mountain top, filling their memory cards, until the sun stood high on the far horizon. It was a memory that they would all look back on with fondness, the three of them, their family, doing what they had loved the most. Being together and capturing memories. Trixie stood proud, the victor of the first, of what would become their “photo hunts”, her grin stretching as wide as her little shoulders, with the tragedies that would unfold before her still many years into her future.
