Sunlight beams down, casting short shadows as Andromeda makes a purposeful stride towards the greenhouses. As he steps in, trowel tucked under one arm to free a hand to pull the door shut with a gentle click behind him, he allows himself a moment to admire the beauty around him, the flowers that blossomed but more than that: the hard work that went into maintaining the blooms, an ineffable beauty that always captured his attention, almost leaving him awestruck. Everyone contributed, of course...
