Tintilla walks barefoot through the field, heading toward a large twisted tree covered with pinkish leaves.
Amidst the leaves are just a few clusters of purple berries, scattered here and there.
A soft breeze blows the girl’s long skirt behind her.
She reaches the tree and holds one hand up toward a group of berries, but they are too high.
She takes hold of a low branch, throws her leg over it, and turns to a sitting position on the branch just above it.
She reaches up again, this time taking hold of some berries in front of her.
She lays against the tree, eating her berries, and falls asleep.