Trees are installed between the concrete fingers of humanity. Squared off bushes dot deserted plazas and white picket fences. Paved paths are planted over tangled roots and wilted flowers. Water flows from silver-lined fountains or from nothing at all. Fires clear forests, along with families and their homes. Dark and gloomy skies span the horizon, a cloud not in sight. Plastic bags and bottles replace glaciers and life, the oceans are on the rise. Rolling landscapes are only found in museums and galleries, never outside. It is inevitable that humanity will cease to exist, but when does nature begin?