We stand observing, in the heart of the garden. Shadows prevail. The haste of time has slowed down. The plants are interwoven into a green blur. The trees keep watch over the patience and the silence of their roots. The green current is caught in the hedge. A moment later, light appears and shines on the garden’s specter; the clamor of light disrupts the unity of the green. A repetitious whisper is heard, telling the wind: “the time for liberation has come”