Her gaze passes over us, open and friendly. “You must be Dana.”
She introduces herself as Marge and offers to show us around the property.
The cabin has solar panels on the roof and a water tank sits behind it. There’s a generous vegetable garden, and beyond the fence an orchard with various kinds of fruit trees.
“We share the gardens and the orchard,” she explains, motioning to five other buildings dotted around the area, “with the other full-time residents.”
We’re joined by Dave, a fit man in his sixties wearing shorts and gardening gloves. He takes them off and shakes our hands firmly. This energetic couple is not what I expected from people living off the grid, but if Dana is surprised, she doesn’t show it.
I hang back as she sets up her equipment for the interview. She chooses a love seat on the porch of their cabin, and they sit side by side, their bodies molding together in a familiar way that only comes with years of intimacy.
Dana sets her camera up on a tripod and from the case selects a lens. She slips it onto the camera and adjusts the tripod’s position until she finds the shot she wants.
I stand back, watching my daughter, wondering when she became so competent. And when she became so at ease speaking with strangers.
It seems like only yesterday she was a little girl, giggling as I pushed her on the swings, begging me to go higher and higher until she was almost flying. Then she’d leap off the swing and into my outstretched arms. Now she’s almost a young woman, sure of herself, not needing her dad to catch her.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket and holds it up. “I’m going to have my phone camera running as well, so I’ll have two angles, but the main camera is this one.” She taps the DSLR.
The couple nod, and Dana pulls a smaller tripod out of her knapsack. She drags over a small table and sets the phone on top of it.
The interview begins, and I fade into the background.
Dana starts with easy questions to get them comfortable, asking about the cabin, and their set-up. As they start to relax, she gets to the bigger questions. What brought them there, how they met, why they stayed, the challenges of off-grid living.
She’s empathetic and draws the story out of them. By the time the interview finishes, I have a new level of respect for my daughter.
Marge heads to the kitchen to make coffee, and Dave goes to check on the chickens.
Dana quietly packs her audio equipment away. “Where did you learn to do that?”
She looks up, and her expression is soft. There’s no hard teenager here, just a girl who’s enjoying herself. “Brooke taught me the basics of the gear, and I watched some videos online.”
“No, I mean the interviewing. You really had a connection with them.”
She shrugs. “Brooke taught me to listen and to watch. Most people want to tell their story; you just have to give them the space to do it.”
She makes it sound easy, but it’s not a skill everyone has. “You were great, Dana. Really good.”
She beams at me, and all of a sudden her arms go around my neck she grips me in a hug. I’m stunned. I can’t remember thelast time Dana hugged me. My arms go around her, and I pull her close.
“You’re doing good, kiddo.”
Marge comes in with a tray of coffee and cookies, and Dana pulls away. She’s back to her equipment, and I have to turn away to hide the emotion in my eyes.
Coming on this camping trip was definitely the right thing to do.
I leave Dana filming Marge feeding the chickens while I head back to the farm. There’s a warmth inside my chest, and for the first time in a long time, I know Dana’s going to be okay.
13
BROOKE
It’s ten minutes past four, and all but one student is back in the communal room. I sit at a table with my clipboard as each student checks in the gear they used for the day. Once I’ve checked the box, it goes to the left, and Joel takes it away and loads it into the mini-bus.
The only student who isn’t back on time in Justin. He finally comes through the door at fifteen minutes past.
“Sorry miss.” He heaves his camera box onto the desk. “I found two of the workers fishing in the river as I was packing up. They’re catching their dinner for tonight. It’s good footage. I didn’t think you’d mind me being a few minutes late.”
