Girl on a hill Lost in Thought Painting

We cannot see her face (her thoughts are also veiled by hair from which details can neither be combed through nor brushed off) as she leans against her solitude. The hill is in an orchard; perhaps in Prague or Croatia or some other hilly place harboring girls in orchards. She is alone but not lonely. She lost her phone two weeks ago and rather than replace it she's decided to return to herself some modicum of the many moments lost to the device. She runs out of things to think about and reflexively reaches for it like scratching a phantom limb. Not finding it the micro panic is substituted with relief (relief that bird of shadows, relief that deep drilled melody, relief you sunken treasure!) and out loud (while still in her mind) she declares, "I'm Back!" "Feel like a soldier, look like a thief bravely I steel my courage to steal back what Ive allowed burgled from me; a million and one glances at the black mirror. Steal still steel. When she realizes we are gazing at her en verso (and by we I mean you, dear reader, and me) she sees (or imagines) what we must see in her. Of her. She jokes in Hermione's British drawl, "Is that really what my hair looks like from behind?"