Her camera clicked and shuttered and clicked and shuttered. It became the path from all her senses to her new world discovery. The sound of tourists blended with birdsong and rustles in the undergrowth and formed its own carpeted background for her work. She moved slowly, led by the camera until Bettina’s grumpy “Oh, there she is” brought her back into everyday life with a snap. She turned the camera off, put it in her handbag so she wouldn’t be tempted into staying in the alien landscape, and walked back to her friends. She was slow, because pain had started to attack her walking with its usual faint viciousness and, by the time she reached the car, all the “Hi—how was your walk?” questions had been posed and answered and there was only one thing left to say. Naturally, Zelda said it.
“O
