Wrapped in a cloak of smoke-like mist, the fairytale grandmother stands waiting. Soon the village children will come to hear her stories, full of the folklore of the highlands of Transylvania, and as she spins her tales, we can almost see strange creatures forming out of the mist. Fiery reds, flaming rusts, mauves and blue-grays all add to the mystery that surrounds this wise old woman whose hands and face seem illuminated by the wisdom of the ages.