Hidden in Plain Sight

In 1844, Edgar Allen Poe first published his short story, “The Purloined Letter”. This was a forerunner of the detective genre. The detective realised that the stolen letter had to be near “at hand … not hidden”, effectively hidden in plain sight. These days, with such as Google Earth, tripadvisor and Lonely Planet, it is much harder to find a hidden treasure because such is likely to have already been recognised and photographed or at least blogged.
Because of this, I was thinking of writing about Costa Rica. For us in Australia, it is a remote exotic unknown, whereas for Americans it is in the neighbourhood, a popular tourist destination. According to National Geographic, Corcovado is ‘the most biologically intense place on Earth’. Thus I was thinking of the whole country as a hidden gem, with its rainforests, wildlife, zip lining … that felt perverse.
Then I thought of what I had seen that was hidden in plain sight. Australia seemed the obvious place to look, that loyal ‘promote the home team’ thing. Four years ago, we travelled to north Queensland, and staying at The Canopy Treehouses in Atherton Tablelands. Our accommodation was a private timber cabin that overlooked the river. We were after platypus in its natural environment, searching up and down the river, hanging around likely spots, but never saw one. There was a platypus-viewing platform at Yungaburra up the road. Nix! We moved on to the Daintree the next day, to be told by other visitors that they saw platypus at Yungaburra the day before. Eventually, we spotted see a wild platypus in Tasmania the following year. Tick.
One afternoon, while still at The Canopy, I was sitting out on our veranda. The elevation and damp greenery moderated the heat of summer in the tropics. The water trickling over the rocks combined with the musical chatter of the rainforest birds was enchanting. But I had this strange feeling someone was watching me. I peered into the trees. It was like one of those puzzles; what was different to everything else? Then it came to me, a black face was looking back at me. A tree kangaroo, very rare. Looked silly really, that lump of a thing hanging onto a skinny tree. Grabbed my camera and took the photo. Being the perfectionist, I tore into the cottage and swapped my zoom for a telephoto lens. It vamoosed before I could try again. Even so, my single photo got him.
Wildlife is fascinating and special, but it runs to its own schedule. It’s likely to hide in plain sight. Be prepared.