From the diary of Iris Carver - May 8, 1967

May 8, 1967

I took Samuel to the clearing today. He didn’t say much beyond thinking it was a pretty place. I wonder if he worries that I dabble in unsightly things there. He once told me there are rumours around town that I am a witch. Ha! If I had any power would I be left hiding in this poor old house?

We held hands as we walked. For a few moments it felt true—like living out a page of an L. M. Montgomery novel.

In the woods I feel human. In his arms I feel like a woman. Both are good but I fear neither are forever.