Sometimes when exploring a place so utterly new, it is necessary to try and focus on the parts of the whole, to avoid being completely overwhelmed. There are many ways to do this, paying attention to just one sense at a time for example. Closing one’s eyes just to listen to the rain on the leaves, or the distant roar of a rushing river. Tasting the fresh acrid zing of crushed green pine needles. Feeling the soft mud squish beneath trustworthy waterproof boots. Smelling the bracing salt air shift to the scent of the rain forest, teeming with growth. Each location we stop at is so unique one could spend an entire trip just wandering around, soaking it all in. Cascade Creek is no exception, where the wild whitewater, melted from mountainous snow, rushes down to the shoreline through forest so green it seems to pulse. Ethereal morning mist wreathing the ridgelines and slowly shifting, revealing and hiding specific contours in turn.
A coping mechanism to confront the compendium of environments we constantly encounter is to set yourself a template of tasks. These could be routines, checklists or even photo assignments. Being particularly partial to the latter, it can be fun to deliberately challenge yourself and create an image you wouldn’t normally consider, like splashing about in puddles, or more seriously trying to capture a sense of place with a single shot. What is equally special is that being part of a tightly knit group on an expedition, when we all reconvene in the evening, we share our perspectives, making the parts add up to a sum of the whole. Comparing lists and pictures, talking about all the activities we signed up for and expected. And then of course the unexpected happens and you watch killer whales for three hours after dinner!
