Unforgiving sidewalks and the blank faces of soaring sidewalks can leave city dwellers longing for the solace of combing endless apple fields and raspberry bushes. For a brief afternoon, they'll take their minds off of the price of gas, the energy crisis, the economic devastation, and think solely about going green.
Green as it may be, that old red, white and blue American tradition magnifies what is now a blatant American tragedy staring them directly in the face.
The lush green gardens may harvest bountiful fruits, vegetables and plant life for the picking; but it's hardly a paradise, hardly a real-life Garden of Eden. It stands as more of a reminder of what could have been, what was and what we may not renew.
But visitors will go just to reach for paradise; to almost taste it. The harvest fruits are at their disposal and they will dispose of them.
The temptation of that paradise is far too great to avoid. It's the sweetest relief; the same ecstasy that addicts chase, that same euphoric high. They might do anything to taste that paradise if only for a moment.
For a taste of paradise they'll give up a brief afternoon and adorn matching straw hats or eco-friendly shoes for the utopian harvest, finding the perfect green apples for their otherwise green-less lives.
But the taste of paradise is bittersweet; so delicious, but so fleeting since the very surrender tot the temptation of paradise could end up being our ultimate demise. A mere utopia that once existed is now just a phantom paradise.
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