Days before travelling, she dreamed of pine trees and mountains. In her dreams, the trees and mountains were a barrier behind which there was nothing. Not the usual nothing, but an unnameable blank. In one dream, for instance, she put out a hand to touch a spruce only to discover that the tree was made of glass, that all the trees were fragile and broke into darkness if touched. In another, a man in a white coat smiled at her, pointed to the trees and mountains and then, without asking, took her hand in his, brought it to his lips.