There was only one tree in Straggler's Field. It had spied a lone goose flying high one autumn day and shot straight up to try and greet him. The attempt at friendship didn't work, the goose had taken fright and sped away, so now it stood quite alone, as the land stretched like a canvas over the land below. The tree had occasional visitors, but most particularly a young lady (who always dressed in sombre colours), that came and sat amongst it's roots most mornings. She would take out a small sketchpad and pen, let her eyes slide out of focus, and begin to dream.