I assume she has her reason for not wanting to look, just like the rest of the natural world has theirs. I imagine a tree with his branch arms crossed, emotional, with his back turned to the trail, refusing to acknowledge passersby like us, who hike the trail looking at our feet, like guests at a party who fail to find and greet the host and express their gratitude.

I imagine a world not unlike the fairytales where our dialogue is not only just among ourselves but also with the rest of lifeforms and even with inanimate objects like teapots and candlesticks. Otherwise we are closed off from the world that’s always trying to tell us something.