Wherever there is light, the flowers will find it.

Whatever that means. The only light I've ever known is the fluorescent lights that line the ceiling of our assigned shuttle.

The only flowers I've seen are those painted in one of the many murals that line the hallways or live in textbooks.

I know that flowers need light to grow, I've read that in my textbooks and studied photosynthesis in class. Our class even visited the agriculture shuttle to see the plants that we grow for our entire community. They've got it down to a science, everything grown in a perfect grid.

Nothing at all like the wild, overgrown scenes displayed here. Flowers of all shapes and sizes grow in haphazardly about. Bright pinks, purples, oranges, and yellows dot the wall.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Miriam pads slowly down the the hallway toward me. Her cane follows her every other step. Wrinkles frame her lips in a ever-present smile.

""Do you remember seeing them? On Earth?" I ask. Miriam is the last patron on our shuttle to have stood on solid ground. On the planet our species once called home.

"I do. You wouldn't believe how decadent they smelled." She got a dreamy look in her eyes, "I painted this mural, you know." She beamed proudly at the wall.

"You did?" I'm in disbelief that this frail old woman designed and painted this masterpiece that spread down the hallway one hundred feet in either direction. "It must have taken you ages!"

"12 years to be exact." She responded with a grin. "But it was worth it. To preserve the beautiful planet we once knew. Before it was destroyed by the same species that cherished it so."