The cold wind rustled through the trees and she shivered but barely felt it. Her breath caught in her throat, straining to hold out through the climb. She stumbled but pulled herself back to her feet. Last time she made this climb it seemed so much easier. The path opened to the summit of the hill and she stopped to catch her breath. The light of the fading sunset cast golden light against the distant snow-covered mountain peaks. A hawk outlined by the dying light flew through the sky and she envied its freedom. She finally felt the warmth of the winter sun envelope her. Gazing out at the land before her she could not help but remember when she came here before. That time she stood with a friend. She smiled at the memory and felt herself shatter. She barely felt herself fall to her knees, crying. Then she saw the young starling at her feet that lay so unbearably still. Like all dead things it already started to decay, thus returning to the earth it came from. The cold wind blew again and she felt herself shiver. She watched the light of the sun fading on the mountains and saw the first star begin to rise. She remembered sitting there before, counting stars and watching constellations with the person she loved. Everything comes from the stars and so to the stars one day it returns. Now she sat and watched the stars alone. She wants to write poetry again, but fears it will sound too much like the note her friend did not leave. The world sky seemed so much darker now. Her heart ached with the memory of the happiness they could never share again. Silent tears cascaded, yet she did not feel them. Time wore on and soon the bird returned to the earth, returned to the dust it came from.