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She wanted to acclimate herself to her new surroundings.

The hot sun beat down and lit up the grass in an almost surreal fashion.

She paused under a tree whose death throes appealed to her inner gothness *wink*

Then under another shady tree, which she felt matched her burgundy beauty. . .

Even there, the sun was too much for her pale skin. She opened her parasol from Japan.

The delicious warmth, however, was too irresistible, and she lay amongst the buttercups. . .

. . .and dreamed (in sepia tones) of what once was, and what was yet to come. . .