Later in the evening, she sits on a chair in her kitchen facing the window, looking at the tree swaying just as a bird sits on top of it. It moves and shakes from the core of its roots, as if jolted by an earthquake, but she notices, it's still standing tall, with a bark so strong that no matter how rough the weather is, no matter how many birds sit on it, it will stay where it is. ‘I am this tree’, she tells herself.