Emma enjoyed the feel of her new outfit. She thought, If only I had someplace special to wear it. Someplace fitting and authentic. Or unusual. But she worried that others might appraise her wearing of the garment as inappropriate, as an attempt to appropriate a different culture. How silly to think that, she thought. But still the thought did occur to her. What did that mean? A loss of innocence? And unkind world?

She remembered with some accuracy a Chinese ink painting, a quiet scene with ducks and a bare tree. It wasn’t difficult to portal into the scene. A moment later she stood beneath the tree, nothing but ducks on the pond and geese in the air.

She took a deep breath. She felt at ease. At peace. Certainly the birds cared not a whit about her outfit. She didn’t care, herself. It was almost as if she were not wearing it, as if she were naked in the soft gray environment.

She spent some minutes doing nothing but breathing. How could so many birds be so quiet? This was nice, peaceful, but sometimes one needed more. Sometimes one needed the sun.

And when the sun came, she made the most of it.