I keep coming back to Cloud Gardens. I'll probably be coming back to Cloud Gardens for years to come. If I'm so lucky, I hope to be returning to Cloud Gardens when I'm old and lonely and what can generously be described as my "best days" are long behind me.
In Cloud Garden, you are placed in various desolate landscapes. In each one it's obvious that any life that once roamed here has been long gone and the signs of civilisations past are crumbling. So you plant. You toss seeds on the destruction. You revive each and every one. When you're done, snaking vines grow over rusty cars. Palm trees hang over abandoned rail tracks. Purple flowers cover previously barren patches of soil. Empty high rises are clothed in a dozen shades of green.
There's something fundamentally hopefully in all that melancholy. It presents you a puzzle where the problem is lifelessness and the solution is, simply, life. It demands creativity and cunning, then rewards you with a gorgeous scene, previously grey and empty, now utterly exploding with colours. Each one feels like a phenomenal triumph.
In Cloud Garden, you are placed in various desolate landscapes. In each one it's obvious that any life that once roamed here has been long gone and the signs of civilisations past are crumbling. So you plant. You toss seeds on the destruction. You revive each and every one. When you're done, snaking vines grow over rusty cars. Palm trees hang over abandoned rail tracks. Purple flowers cover previously barren patches of soil. Empty high rises are clothed in a dozen shades of green.
There's something fundamentally hopefully in all that melancholy. It presents you a puzzle where the problem is lifelessness and the solution is, simply, life. It demands creativity and cunning, then rewards you with a gorgeous scene, previously grey and empty, now utterly exploding with colours. Each one feels like a phenomenal triumph.