Thomas paused as he pushed the door open, closing his eyes upon doing so. A wave a warm damp air greeted him, bringing with it the pleasantly fresh scent of basil and mint. Even as the dry thunder rolled over head and heat lightning flickered across the desert peaks in the distance, he felt that here, in his own little oasis, he could recall better days.
Days long past-- back when morning dew would moisten the grass and flower petals of the Nouri Valley. Back when the smell of ozone and earth was so much richer than the stale dust that assaulted your lungs as of late. He recalled when soil was thick and carried a scent of its own-- unique and soothing, as seedlings and trees stretched to the skies, showering passer-bys in pollen and fregrence. When leaves were commonplace and over looked. Back when the life they gave was taken for granted...
It was funny, how his little arboretum could bring these sentiments rushing back each time he passed through its glass threshold. And yet, without fail, every morning, he began his day the same way... Reminiscing of a world gone by, when the foliage was abundant and wild. Back when Earth was green.