Years later, the garden is gone and the Valley has dimmed, but the image remains. It is a digital ghost of a time when flowers were made of light and a girl named Belinda held the whistle that made them sing. for this story, or perhaps a different character arc for Belinda?
Belinda gasped, her eyes wide. She reached into her satchel and pulled out her camera—a heavy, old thing with a shiny lens. She knew she couldn't take the flower; legend said they crumbled to dust if removed from their roots. But she could keep the moment.