None of Ruth's stories could have properly prepared me for the beauty of this place. My words fail me now, trying to describe the sheer wonder of it all.
The promised river, surrounded by cottonwood trees, softly swaying cattails, bright patches of wildflowers, and lush grass.
The peaceful sounds of flowing water and the wind rustling through shimmering leaves.
Red and white cliff faces in every direction.
How many have come before us, here?
ED-E's sensors confirm that the river's safe enough to drink from, and the air doesn't tip our dosimeters.
We each lugged gallons of water away from the riverbed to wash ourselves and our clothes. The simple fact of being clean feels like a small miracle. I could weep with relief.
We're still alone tonight, but the solitude doesn't weigh on me as it once did. Perhaps I'm beginning to allow myself to believe that we're going to find them after all.