A few of our favorite moments from the camera traps in Peru - the first captures the incredibly rare and elusive short-eared dog (Atelocynus microtis) making off with a massive fruit in its jaws (and it’s the first time this animal has been documented in this particular area!), and the second series shows a curious ocelot (Leopardus pardalis) in the middle of an early-morning prowl.
Camera traps such as these provide untold insights on the biodiversity of an area. It may take a person years to report any solid evidence of these types of animals in a studied environment due to the difficulties of tracking creatures that have senses finely attuned to our presence in their territories. One of my favorite parts of being in Peru was simply knowing I was in a place inhabited by these magnificent species, despite the fact I would probably never get the chance to see them.
If anyone could ask you about the definition of a family, you’d describe yours. You’d describe the feeling of euphoria that you felt when you saw Harry on one knee, a simple shining ring in a velvet box in his hands as loving words fell spontaneously from his lips, taking a breath before he asked you:
“Would you please, oh God, please, marry me?”
You’d describe the moment you saw Harry at the aisle, hand covering his mouth as tears dropped down his face when he watched you walk down. The shake of his head as he grinned when he gently held your hands in his, whispering sweet nothings. Or when he finally gave you your first kiss as weds, pouring years of love in.
You’d describe your honeymoon. Sitting on the beach as Harry strummed the guitar, covering your favorite songs and lullabying you with unreleased songs in his that he kept hidden in his leather journal.
If anyone asks about family, you’d tell them about Harry’s happy outburst when you told him you were ready to try for a baby; how he picked you up and twirled you, showering your face with pecks and whispering: “We’re going to be the greatest parents ever. You and I, angel.”
You’d tell them about the moment you gave Harry a box of chocolate, pecking his lips when he hungrily opened it but right as he was about to pick one, his eyes widened when he saw the white little frosting on each chocolate piece that read ‘YOU ARE GOING TO BE A DADDY’. Chocolates flying to the couch as Harry embraced you tightly, tears rolling down as he cupped your face in his hands.
“Thank you! Thank you! I’m going to be a dad! You’re-You’re going to be a mum and-Oh my God, I love you, I love you.” Was what he said as he struggled to breathe through the words, kissing you before bending down to kiss your still bump-less stomach, “We’re going to take care of you, baby Styles. We love you. Daddy loves you.”
How it turned from only a goodnight kiss to your lips, to also pecks of kisses on your stomach with a sweet pep talk.
The first time the baby kicked was during Harry’s performance of Sweet Creature as he was on stage, you backstage, watching him proudly when you felt a kick in your now bump making you subconsciously put a hand on your stomach before looking back at Harry who was smiling at the crowd before he looked at you with a grin, faltering when he saw your tearful eyes, stuttering over the lyrics as he concentrated on your mouth as you mouthed, “It kicked!” while pointing at your stomach.
“Holy shit!” Harry said through the mic, cutting off his singing as he ran to where you are, eagerly putting his hands on your stomach as he knelt down. When he felt the kick, he couldn’t help but have tears in his eyes himself, “Hi, baby Styles. We’re excited for you to get out too.” He said, kissing your stomach before looking up at you, “Are you hurt?”
With a shake of your head and reassurance, you made Harry go back on stage. “’M sorry, my baby kicked for the first time!” He excited announced.
You’d describe love and family with Harry’s tired smile as he watched you eat craved McDonald’s fries at 3 am, taking off his hoodie and sweats to go back to bed, mumbling that you should wake him up if you need anything else.
You’d go on and on about the moment when you and Harry rushed to the hospital, tears and grunts emitting from you, Harry’s face in distress as his hand held yours in the delivery room, continuously supporting you with “You’re doing great, love. So so great. We’re getting there.”
The moment Harry cried when he saw your baby in your arms, too nervous to approach you and your little guy. You had joked, telling him that this wasn’t the reaction he said he’d have. You gently told him to come closer and watching him as he does, his lips falling on your forehead to give you an appreciative kiss before letting his finger be held by his baby’s tiny fingers. Or the moment Harry holds his baby in his arms, cooing softly to him and already making memories with him.
The moment you enter the house, watching your baby’s fingers messily hit Harry’s guitar chords as Harry filmed him with your camera, giving him an earful of “You’re doing great, little guy! Just like daddy!”
If anyone could ask you about the definition of love and family, you’d tell them about yours.
“It’s a wonderful, beautiful thing to see a dick admit he’s a dick. It’s fantastic because it’s usually followed by someone not being a dick anymore and growing up. But now we have this new thing in our society with ear cameras and blogs and tweets and reality shows.” - Dan Harmon, Harmontown