A verdant sea lay at her feet, swaying and moving to the breath of the wind; the soft exhalations of the weather created ripples on the surface of the lushly green lake of grass blades.
A soft hue of baby-blue was the sky; clouds dotted its expanse sparingly, as if ashamed to blemish the canvas of the day with their cotton whiteness. The vast sapphire firmaments were not yet illuminated.
The grass whispered on her arms, yet not touching, as she huddled into it, seeking solace from the perfect morning.
The dawn was perfect. Perfect in all sense of the word.
It held a heavy sadness to her, one that weighed down her heart and sank it to the depths of her soul - if she was in possession of one.
The town nestled into the valley between the two mountains was too peaceful. Too quaint. Too homey, too comforting and undisturbed. The walls of its houses were too unsullied, the lace curtains too fresh and the morning light too soft and welcoming.
It was all out of her reach.
Calmly, serenely, completely coolly out of her reach.
The rising sun's warmth and light did not gently heat her skin, nor did it cast her shadow upon the ground. The grass did not bend away from her, but neither did it tickle her upper arms.
She watched as the children awoke, much too early and energetic for their parents. She observed them as they ran through the grass, shouting back and forth at each other, calling their friends names and teasing the livestock grazing lazily on the rotund slopes.
She noted the healthy blush on their cheeks and the reflection of the light in their eyes.
She witnessed their happiness.
She was not part of it.
That was a present that had come and gone, a blessing that had vanished into a residue of longing and regret.
As the children passed her by, their eyes not seeing her seated in the the dancing grass, she rested her forehead on the back of her knees. The tears would not come. They had long been dried away and run out.
This was her punishment.