Sometimes it feels like I’m chasing the story. But that’s not the truth. The truth is that the story is a scared child. They are asking for their story to be told, but slow to trust. I am sitting down by the fire I built for us every day and listening to them, connecting with them, seeing them. And every time we do this it can get a little bit easier. And some days it gets harder again. Some days the blackberries we pick are sour and the wood is wet so the fire sputters out, we shiver together and don’t say much except that I will come back tomorrow to try again.