Perception and Perspective: Chapter Away By Melissa Ann Hardin

Perception & Perspective: Chapter Away

By: Melissa Ann Hardin

On July 14^th it got the better of me, my curiosity. An insatiable query that niggled at the back of my mind. Itching and tingling until I felt full of ire to rid myself of the feeling. Katherine stood not far from me, feet planted towards the rising sun and seemed to hover there at the edge of some larger understanding of life I had no knowledge of. Her long brown hair pulled back in a neat ponytail that caught the rays of the sun and shone with red highlights. She turned to look at me with a question in her clear green eyes. I suppose that forced some movement from me. I had not been born with such patient veins within my being. She was only ten years old and I was surprised at just how silently she was taking in our surroundings.

We’d decided to take this camping trip last spring and with summer finally presenting itself the Emerald Bay of Tahoe had called us to its shores. The expanse of lake beyond the lookout was clear and breathtaking. The young pines and the smell of their fragrance permeating everything with a sense of peace I’d been waiting the last eight weeks for. The sun slanting through the branches and swaying across the ripples of the lake below took my breath away with the simple loveliness of natures grandiosity. The waters were blue and green, and everything seemed fresh and full of life. High above the peaks of the Sierra Mountains rose and as I leaned on the fence rail over the lookout, I felt the pinch of the wood beneath my palms bring me back to sharp reality. Time to make camp and set up my telescope.

The wind was light with no worries of the delta breezes that swept San Francisco. Picnics were an impossibility there. Here though within the shelter of the trees and the close quarters of gravel and soil I could find some dry stones or bricks easily enough that some helpful camper had left behind for just such a reason. Katherine was quiet. She hadn’t uttered more than three sentences since she’d woken from her nap two hours ago. She’d slept through Redding and Shasta, and though I’d wondered if I’d do better to make camp there, Tahoe tugged at my heart strings instead.

“Katherine?” I called.

“Hmmm?” she answered.

“Can you get momma some small sticks of kindling from our pack?” I asked.

She nodded in acquiesce. Her small nod the only reply I was likely to get. I set about putting our camp together. The tent was easy enough. The rods and all pieces having been painstakingly replaced correctly and neatly from our last trip. I laid out the tent, added the rods in cross fashion and popped up the tent. I quickly hammered in the tent pegs lest a stray breeze take the flaps from my hand. Its blue and white colors creating a pretty picture next to the lake beyond. Katherine busied herself making the fire without being asked. The formation of stones, twigs, kindling, and wood being stacked to the right in record time. The telescope was just as easily fitted together and set in place for this evenings viewing of Pluto, which was the primary reason for our trip anyway. I’d missed the fresh air and long expanse of starlit skies I’d grown up with in the middle of the trees. In the cities I was smothered with the stench of humanity. Out in nature though, I could breathe.

I grabbed the cooking pots, the cooler, and the fishing poles and set them next to the tent and the fire. There was a small picnic table over to the left of our camping space. The fee had been minimal for the lot we rented for the weekend next to Inspiration Point between Emerald Bay and Cascade Lake. The tall pines rising around us to shelter us beneath the boughs. Out in the Bay, Fannette Island sat lonely. The tiny expanse of island subject to the swells and rising tides, a boat or jet ski needed to visit it. Eagle Falls rose above and to the left and cascaded beautifully to the bay below. The wildlife was plentiful, and you had to take care with leftovers from picnics and fishing, and especially fires but otherwise it was a peaceful spot to camp and center ourselves once more. It would be warm enough till sunset but the cool breezes from the mountain peaks and lake below would cool the surrounding area and warmth would become a primary concern past nightfall. With the rest of our camping site neatly in place, it was time to fish for our dinner.

I grabbed our picnic of grapes, cheese, and juice from the back seat of my small SUV in one hand and the fishing poles in the other. Katherine grabbed the blankets and fishing supplies and we headed towards Cascade Lake for a quick afternoon of fishing. All this with a nary a word being said between us. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence and yet left something to be desired where loquaciousness was considered. Everything was easy and once we were settled on the shores fishing for our dinner it surprised me greatly when Katherine tugged at her pole mercilessly, uttered an expletive, and then threw her pole to the ground in an outburst that was, if not unexpected, still caused me to raise an eyebrow in her direction.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Maybe. Stupid fish, stupid wind, stupid trip!” Katherine exclaimed.

“Okay.” I responded. “Wanna tell me why?”

“No!” Katherine said huffily.

“Alright. Would you like a grape juice?” I asked.

“No!” Katherine responded.

“Okay then.” I said.

She stood up. “Ya know, I have friends I need to spend time with too.”

“Yes, I do know that. I’m sure Sara will understand you being away on this trip for just a weekend.” I responded.

“Maybe. But then maybe she’s hanging out with Laura instead of me and then maybe she won’t care if I come back, and that will be all your fault.” Katherine said as she sat with her arms crossed in a huff while sitting on the bank of the lake looking so forlorn it tugged at my heart.

“I’m sure she won’t forget about you in two days.” I said, trying to console her.

“Well, I hope not!” Katherine said as her eyes filled and she swiped angry tears from her cheeks. I gave her a quick hug and rubbed her back as she sat back down beside me. I kissed her cheek and rubbed her head.

“It’s not forever and maybe you can tell your dollies all about it when you get back.” I said.

“Maybe.” She responded.

Strange how ten-year old’s think about life and time. She knew we had this trip planned for quite some time. She had cheerfully help me pack, and yet now that we were here our home and her friends seemed perpetually lost to her. The idea that Laura might be taking her place as Sara’s new best friend while she was away on this “dumb trip with her mother” had snapped her quiet introspective mood into a fiery disposition within moments. I sighed quietly and rolled my eyes so she couldn’t see me.

“Want some cheese?” I offered.

“Yes please.” She answered.

Breathing a sigh of relief this time that the expected outburst had come and gone with maybe only a small loss to our catch for dinner. I went back to watching my line for a bite. A few tugs, reels, and the loss of eight bait later, I called the fishing trip over. We’d only caught nine rainbow trout but it would be enough for dinner, maybe lunch tomorrow if it was filleted carefully. I set to that task on the specialized cutting board with the clamp I’d brought. It held the tail securely and I painstakingly taught Katherine how to cut, gut, and fillet them as my father had once taught me. How to hold the knife at the proper angle was key to a proper dinner. Checking the meat for hidden parasites was necessary. Watching Katherine with hidden amusement as she grimaced at the task when it was her turn and biting my tongue as one fish lost most of its edible portions, secretly delighted me because I didn’t like to touch the fish either. She glanced up to see if I’d noticed but I pretended not to see after one of the fish landed in the lake behind her right shoulder. I take it that would be one less fish she wanted the task of filleting. I busied myself filleting the others and with great effort tried not to guffaw loudly at the splash I heard. After the fifth one, supposedly, she looked up at me with pleading eyes to end the torture. I nodded my head and finished the gruesome task while she washed her hands and face using the lake water. We gathered our belongings and sedately headed back to camp with ten fillets and three chopped fish squares to batter for our dinner. It would pair nicely with the seasoned rice and fresh asparagus. The campfires dry wood caught the flame and I seared half the trout in butter and herbs, and battered the remaining and added them to the sizzling grease with the pot of rice and boiling asparagus over the fire grate. The intense heat of the fire finished the task of dinner much quicker than I’d hoped. We ate and chatted easily about our favorite areas we’d seen so far. I disposed of everything left uneaten responsibly. The sun had just about reached the tops of the trees by the time I had the leftovers repacked in our cooler. We grabbed the sleeping bags and extra blankets from the SUV and snugged our tents to lessen the feel of the earth beneath us for our nights rest. Sunset came soon enough with its pink and purple skies reflecting over the surface of the bay. I snapped pictures of Katherine and we took a selfie of us together with natures astounding beauty as our backdrop. With darkness rapidly falling I made sure we had plenty of wood for the campfire and took pains to direct the angle of the telescope in Pluto’s direction. Sunset was the best time to view the small planet. I looked through the telescope and showed it to Katherine as the beauty of Earths sunset faded into the clear dark night of star spangled sky above. Pluto was covered in ice encrusted mountain peaks, craters, and brown rock. It had five moons and what we could perceive with our telescope was a side that was seen for 246 years. Charon was the largest moon, nearly half the size of Pluto itself. Next was Styx, Nix, Kerberos, and Hydra. I’d had a fascination with the stars and sky since I was a child. I educated Katherine on Polaris, the North star. The understanding of where she could find that star if she was ever lost in the wilderness could make the difference between life or death. I showed her the constellations and as her eyelids began to droop in exhaustion of our full day I put her to bed and zipped us into our tent. Tomorrow we would swim, eat our leftovers, and then drive back North. Back to the rush and the hustle of suburban life on the edge of the city. I drifted off to the sound of her even breathing, the rushing waterfall nearby, and the crackling of the fire as the lullaby of peace overwhelmed my uneasiness.

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