Chapter 1, page 10

She had relaxed considerably in the soft quiet of the Trinities. Her journal was her constant companion, and full of thoughts, plans, ideas, as well as catharsis. She would be seeing her counselor weekly for awhile, and that would be her day for grocery shopping and a stop at the library. Her life was assuming a routine, and purpose, even without a job to go to daily.

Phoebe ambled along the creek, which had become one of her favorite hiking spots, and enjoyed the fresh, cool spring air. Her blue eyes were quietly thoughtful as she watched the water flow noisily over the stones and fallen logs. Her hands shoved deep in the pockets of her light jacket, shoulders hunched, mesmerized by the rushing water. After a few minutes, she sat on a convenient boulder, listing to the raucous sound of some bluejays, and the gurgle of the small creek to the right of her. Brush and grass populated the bank, and on the other side of the trail were large fir trees.

She finished her apple, staring into the woods, deep in thought. The euphoria of her arrival had disintegrated into the mild depression that had led her to seek out this life of solitude and introspection. She felt like her life was such a mess. She’d been seeing a counselor, who had been an enormous help with figuring out how she’d made her wrong turns, how she’d gotten to this place, and how she could get on with her life in a productive and happy manner.

As part of her therapy, she was keeping a journal of her daily activities, what she thought about, how she was feeling, and what she would like to do, what her goals were, what were her dreams, as well. Phoebe carried the journal with her wherever she went, writing in it at odd moments. She had also started sketching in it, little pictures of trees and animals, sometimes oddly shaped rocks, or whatever caught her eye. The writing and drawing helped with her therapy, and it also helped her to sleep at night. Her thoughts were down on paper, not whirling around in her head.