Early morning. Almost dawn. A ghostly figure emerges from an old country house. She passes across the landscape humming to herself. Rivers. Mountains. Forests. She seems to glide above them all, integrating their songs and sounds into her own. Broken branches. Animal cries. The whispering wind. At points, the early light of dawn can be seen crashing through the trees with tremendous force. The light casts shadows upon her face. It is during these moments that the beauty of her song radiates the most. But all things move towards their end and she ceases progressing before eventually turning silent. The…