Lights in the city below twinkle. Marking Progress and imagination. Some buildings dark, too old, tired, or unwilling for lights, some simply sleeping.

The city is a jewel in the darkness of expanding plains in every direction. Recovery from this last kind of apocalypse. Watcher Garden remembers ancestors of this disaster, recognizes the pieces that are being reconfigured in this new springing of life. Watcher Garden will welcome this generation, as it has all generations past, remembered or simply seeming ever present.

The wind washes through the city. Lights don’t flicker at the source, but through the thousands of leaves of the garden, the lights flick, dim, and dance as if dreaming until they wake.