A metaphor born from the landscape I live near the Fraser Valley. On clear mornings, I can see where the mountains begin; sharp-edged and snow-capped, the peaks holding their cold long after the valley has thawed. The Fraser River moves through this landscape with a kind of quiet authority, carrying what the mountains have released all the way to the Pacific. I have thought a lot about that river. And the more I work with trauma, and with clients who carry memories that feel