Specificity matters in opening pages too (page critique)

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Now then. Time for the Page Critique. First I’ll present the page without comment, then I’ll offer my thoughts and a redline. If you choose to offer your own thoughts, please be polite. We aim to be positive and helpful.

Random numbers were generated, and thanks to rish, whose page is below:

Prologue

A sudden wind came from nowhere, carrying the stench of a body I knew lay up ahead; I had to be close.
I raised the collar on my navy-blue blazer, even as I sweated under the scorching August sun. I’d been walking for ten minutes in a wilderness park three hours north of Toronto, unsure of the direction. Why hadn’t someone met me at the park’s entrance?

I made my way across the forest floor with a band of screeching blue jays stalking me. They seemed to be calling to me. Although the canopy of tree tops shielded me from the blistering sun, it did nothing for the boggy ground under my feet. Every step brought up another cloud of mosquitoes, and I swatted at each new bite.

When I saw the yellow police tape just ahead, it spurred me forward.

I flashed my badge at the cop standing guard. “Good afternoon, DS Bradley, sir.” After I signed into the scene log, he briefed me on the team’s findings. I already knew who the victim was: Charlotte McPhee, thirty-eight years old, and a TV news anchor. They found her car at the west gate to the park. She’d been missing for forty-eight hours. Hikers spotted the body along with a knapsack, then fled, fearing a killer was on the loose.

I swung under the tape. The single female in the group, a police photographer, lowered her camera and nodded at me. Looking beyond her, I saw three investigators—two of them glanced over at me. Then I spotted the medical examiner kneeling next to the body.

This is a largely competently-written opening, but it falls pretty flat for me. The narrative voice feels distant from the protagonist’s motivations and thought processes, which makes it difficult to connect with what the protagonist is doing in this scene and why it matters. We learn precious little about anything other than the forest and the body.

Specificity is a perennial suggestion in my query critiques, but it goes for first pages as well. There are several missed opportunities in this page to provide more specific context that might help tease open the story. Who did the protagonist expect would meet them at the entrance at the park? What is the badge they flash? A press badge, police badge, or other?

With a narrative voice that connects us to the protagonist’s mindset, motivation, and plans, and greater specificity to anchor us with the details, the story would feel much more cohesive and we’d have a better sense of why we should start investing in this particular body.

Here’s my redline:

Prologue

A sudden wind came from nowhere, carrying [Doesn’t “sudden” already convey the wind “came from nowhere?”] carried the stench of a the body I knew lay up ahead; I had to be close. [Clearly?]
I raised the collar on my navy-blue blazer, even as I sweated under the scorching August sun. I’d been walking for ten minutes in a wilderness park three hours north of Toronto, unsure of the which direction I was headed [Unsure of the direction of what? If it’s the direction they’re walking in, how hard could that be to figure out if it’s sunny?]. Why hadn’t someone [Be more specific–who or what did they expect] met me at the park’s entrance?

I made my way across the forest floor with a band of screeching blue jays stalking me. They seemed to be calling to me. [Feels redundant] Although the tree canopy of tree tops shielded me from the blistering sun [Forcing the reader to update their mental image from “sweated under the scorching August sun.“ Needless dribbling out of details], it did nothing for the boggy ground under my feet. Every step brought up another cloud of mosquitoes, and I swatted at each new bite. [Swatted at each new bite? Why would you swat the bites instead of the mosquitos?]

When I saw the yellow police tape just ahead [Be more specific], it spurred me forward. [ORIENT THE READER ON WHAT THE PROTAGONIST NEEDS TO DO HERE AND WHAT’S AT STAKE]

I flashed my badge [What badge?] at the cop standing guard. “Good afternoon, DS Bradley, sir.” After I signed into the scene log, he briefed me on the team’s findings.

¶I already knew who the victim was: Charlotte McPhee, thirty-eight years old, and a TV news anchor. They found her car at the west gate to the park. She’d been missing for forty-eight hours. Hikers spotted the body along with a knapsack, then fled, fearing a killer was on the loose.

I swung under the tape. The single female in the group, a police photographer, lowered her camera and nodded at me. Looking beyond her, I saw three investigators—two of them glanced over at me. [Vague/generic nods and meaningful glances] Then I spotted the medical examiner kneeling next to the body.

Thanks again to rish!

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Art: Tal in der sächsischen Schweiz by Otto Försterling