SEASON 1: White Lily

Friday, 10/10/2008                                                

 It was a rather chilly day, even with the sun shining from the sky without obstruction. There being almost no clouds at all this time of the year was certainly a rare treat in Scotland. That felt like a good omen for Amelia’s weekend trip as she glided along the river with her one-person rental kayak. She’d been busy with her studies and related practical work placements ever since the first semester of her third year at the university had started, so she’d mostly just conked out in her free time. Before that, she’d had the flu, which had kept her at home. As such, it had been a while since she’d last had the energy for a proper trip such as this.

 While she didn’t mind living in the city where everything was conveniently at least relatively close by, these trips out into nature felt like a lifeline of sorts to her, a way to get away from her troubles. She tried to go one way or another at least twice a month during the warmer months, so being overdue had made her a bit anxious.

 Amelia planned to go upstream on the river on this first day and set up her campsite. Then on the second day, she would go hiking, exploring around the camp area for anything interesting. She had her camera along with her for documenting discoveries of interest, as well as any landscape views of note. On the third day, she would then head back. She hoped the weather would be favourable for the entire weekend, though she knew it was a lot to ask.

 Not long after departing, her route took her past another camp area, separate from the one she’d started from, though as the crow flies, they weren’t very far apart. She wasn’t paying much attention until she realised she could hear a buzzing sound. It was not entirely unlike what an insect might make, but it was far too loud for that. She looked up and spotted an aeroplane. For a moment, she drew a blank regarding what exactly she was looking at – a plane didn’t make sense, because it was too close, and making a sound like that.

 She then realised that it was a tiny plane, at least comparatively, one that someone was controlling remotely. She felt a shiver as the plane passed almost directly overhead. Her history with planes was complicated, and even a toy plane was enough to instantly bring back some very uncomfortable memories.

 Looking around, she saw someone standing on the pier, eyes on the plane and holding something in their hands. She assumed it was the control device for the plane. Despite having heard of the existence of such remotely controlled toy planes, she’d never actually seen one before. This one seemed to be a float plane. While she could remember some different types of planes from her youth back when she’d not been traumatized by them yet, at least at this distance she couldn’t tell what exactly it was, or if it was modelled after a specific real plane type at all.

 Shaking her head, she reminded herself what she was here for. There was a long way to go yet before the end of the day. Not that she was in a hurry – she wanted to take her time and enjoy the sceneries along the way. But this area with its buzzing plane wasn’t exactly ‘it.’ Even so, it was unusual enough for her that she took out her camera and snapped a picture that took in both the pilot and the plane, as tiny as she knew they’d look in the photo. Then she put the camera away again and did her best to ignore the plane’s further presence, instead starting to paddle again.

 Once she was past the camp area the river was mostly surrounded by forest, and therefore not a very interesting sight. But eventually, the forest gave way to moors, with hills and fields giving more variety – traditional scenery that out here, farther from the towns and cities could’ve been almost exactly like that a hundred years ago, aside from some paved roads and occasional newer buildings. She took out her camera again, and after taking a few pictures, hung it around her neck with a strap for easier access before moving on.

 Her camera wasn’t exactly the most modern device either, which, in addition to sentimental reasons, felt fitting for such an escape from the daily realities of modern life. As a mostly mechanical rangefinder camera, it required only a small battery that lasted a long while, so there was little worry about running out in the middle of a trip, even in colder weather. If anything was likely to run out, it was film rolls on longer trips, depending on how many she took with her. So far, it had only happened once. However, having a limited number of photos she could take made her more careful with the ones she chose to take, so she figured the end result was a net win in terms of quality. Finally, such a camera wouldn’t be quite so irreparably fried if it ended up in the water for one reason or another.

 As she kept paddling along the river, it was a mostly uneventful journey, though she’d not expected otherwise. The only encounter she had with anyone was what seemed like a couple, also on kayaks. She greeted them and exchanged a few polite words before moving on. It got her thinking about what it’d be like to do these trips with someone. She’d been on a few one-day trips with a companion in the past, but overnight trips, whether on foot or kayaking, had always been a solo affair for her. She didn’t really have anyone to ask ever since returning to Scotland almost two and a half years ago from the United States, where she’d spent the previous nearly ten years. She’d considered asking her housemate at the university dorm a couple of times, given she enjoyed her company despite them not being exactly close. However, the girl had always been very much an indoor type, so she hadn’t. It wasn’t a big deal anyway, since she was used to going at things alone, ever since… she shook her head again, banishing the thought. Right now, what was relevant was finding a place to set up camp so that she could get started with the rest of her plans for the trip.