“Yours was shit, too, Hawthorne.”
“What did they call it again? Oozy? You should let me try it.”
I batted his greedy hands away. “Not a chance in hell.”
Jack burst into laughter, and that was the moment I decided once and for all.
It was on.
TEN
Jack
Mating season was finally here.So I was up and dressed at the crack of dawn, which meant a crisp four thirty. That might scare some people off, but I only slept a few hours a night anyway, and bird-watching was one of my favorite hobbies. Fellow birders always looked forward to reporting the birds throughout all of the Mount Hood National Forest region, and Camp Starlight’s acreage had some of the best viewing spots to catch some rare little songbirds.
I’d be taking a small group of campers out here later this week as well, and maybe they’d see the same rare birds I hoped to catch in action today. I planned to share my findings from this week with the Bird Alliance of Oregon. I had some friends in the coalition, and we were always excited to hear what each other had spotted.
I filled my thermos with my favorite Beans and Beans whole bean blend that I’d ground at home before brewing into the steaming, rich, bold perfection that it was now. This coffee, paired with my favorite bird-watching shirt, always put me in a good mood. The shirt was faded, the cotton loose and well-worn, withHawksomewritten in bold lettering above a picture of a hawk. My nephew surprised me with a bird-themed T-shirtevery birthday, and I loved all of them, but this one was my favorite.
I walked quietly and found my perch, slowing my breathing as I lifted my binoculars to scan the area. A few long moments of tranquility and peace surrounded me.
There.
I focused my gaze on a small bird, a yellow-rumped warbler, and minutes later spotted a hermit warbler deep in the conifers. I documented their locations, and even though these weren’t rare per se, it was fun to keep track of their behaviors and patterns.
I moved locations, walking deeper into the forest to see what else I could find.
There, in all its glory, was a northern goshawk in hunting formation. I imagined there was a nest nearby that the hawk was looking to provide food for in an undisturbed part of the forest. I crept and waited in the nooks and crannies of the forest, careful not to spook or frighten it as I lifted my binoculars and focused in on the dive movement of the majestic creature. Something in me settled.
I enjoyed the moment with my coffee and snapped an amateur series of photos on my phone. Not even a certain brunette could ruin this.
I hurried toward the boathouse.Usually, I’d head back to my cabin to change, but I’d foregone those moments to stay longer in the forest, and I had spare Crocs there.
Camp was bustling as I made my way through its winding paths. Laughter greeted me as I passed each pod. That wasn’t tooconcerning, because most people laughed while at camp, but the stares were… new.
I kept moving in a hurry to the lake. Were those more stares?
Another camper, someone from Sawyer’s pod, seemed to do a double take when our paths crossed. She giggled. “Whoa.”
I turned my head, wondering what that was all about, when another group of campers broke into laughter. But they upped the ante by pointing directly at me. Did I have something on my shirt? I looked down at myself, and my shirt looked amazing as usual. Maybe they just loved puns? No. No one liked puns that much.
I shook off that strange interaction and redirected my thoughts to getting the boat ready for the campers who were already showing up. They had their towels slung over their shoulders, big sunglasses, and a few beers in hand. I grinned at them.
But my grin quickly fell. Even they laughed when they saw me.
They climbed into the boat, and I started it up after my safety check, feeling self-conscious. I tried to push the feeling aside, assuming it would go once we got out on the water and I made the introductions. Unfortunately, the snickers continued, much to my chagrin.
“What is it?” I finally asked, exasperation in my tone.
Best friends Liza and Celeste were librarians in my pod this week. They both mimed a large ring around my eye area.
“You just have a little something here,” Liza clarified.
“What do you mean,something?”
“It’s like black makeup in a heavy ring. Did you lose a bet?” Celeste asked.
“Or take a dare?” Liza added with a wince.
