She walks through the buttercup meadow to the trees on the other side. The sun playing peak-a-boo with the clouds warms her hair she walks barefoot along the path until she reaches the long wispy branches of the willow. Brushing them aside she lets the curtain of green fall behind her and sits on the ground beneath, her back against the rough bark. Cool darkness washes over her. A stream trickles over the bare feet of the roots of her tree. She sighs and watches the sun making sparkles on the water. Instinctively, she cups her belly remembering too late that the life once growing inside is gone. Tears flow unchecked down her cheeks and she curls up on the ground with the sound of her breaking heart loud in her ears.