An indigenous woman has lost her roots. She is 63 years old, she lives alone in the humble peasant house, located inside a forest. She spends her days between her house and the forest. She fulfills her needs partially with what she finds along the paths she takes everyday through the woods, that is where she gets seeds and plants. She is a hermit, consumed by her own life. She lives obsessed with a picture hanging in her room; a photo of an indigenous girl on the day of her First Communion. The day arrives when she must battle her own delusions, revive them and expel them. This may or may not help her to discover herself, her essence, her roots.