As a professional nature photographer traveling to exotic and isolated regions was not uncommon. In fact, I often spent weeks alone in the wilderness camping out; just me and my camera.
While spending a weekend in a small forest, one known for its abundance in wildlife and untouched landscape, I set up my tent and spent all three days wandering trails snapping photographs as I walked. I never saw another person in those three days I was in the forest. I saw only deer, birds, raccoons and other indigenous animals roaming through the trees.
It was only after I returned home that I finally looked at the hundreds of photos that had been taken. One by one I uploaded each image into my laptop. One by one the beautiful natural scenery dazzled my eyes, with the exception of expected few blurry photos that were on the memory cards. Everything was normal, or so it seemed.
As the last image was uploaded into the laptop a chill ran down my spine. It was impossible. This photo shouldn’t exist, and yet there is was plain as day.
The photo wasn’t of the forest, or the animals, or the landscape… It was a photo of me.
It was a photograph of me sleeping in my tent…
Someone was in the forest with me.