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The hospital sat on a headland overlooking the lake, enveloped in acres of emerald green trefoil that rolled and toppled into the city mist. It was a paragon of modest architecture, auburn-colored bungalows thrown unevenly around a two-story administration building, the compound veined with pebble pathways and flower beds, partly shaded by the spreading branches of shore live oak.

Blade points of grey tile roof intruded upon a cerulean sky so untainted it bordered on the imaginary. At the intersection of land and sky, a single twisted city pine clawed at the sky. Beneath its swaying trunk, patches of yellow and blue lupine flowed like paint drips down a slanting green canvas.