She likes to make garlands of flowers. She earnestly picks out the prettiest flowers in the whole field, inspecting and smelling each one, making sure all the petals are in place and the perfect size. It's like the field is her life and the flowers - her memories. She picks out the perfect memories and holds them together like garlands.
Memories holding on to a string of thread. Living a life cushioned by the pleasant moments. She does not realize the field is where she has to return to, inevitably.