Rushing Home To Brooklyn

It is 5:00 PM as we rush home to Brooklyn to our townhouse near Flatbush Avenue running to catch the 5:30 PM subway with many others who have made plans to enjoy a three-day weekend and get the needed rest from the hustle and bustle of city life as if living in a crowded ant colony with needless movements going in all directions adding to the helter-shelter of frenzied lives which over-populated cities provide for those who do not know any better until they have an opportunity to visit a farm for the special holiday weekend within a bucolic setting and realize there is a life of slow motion which insists urbanites stop to smell the roses along a country lane and take in the fresh country air and the panoramic view of green hillsides dotted with Jersey cows munching and herding together without a care in the world as a John Deere tractor rolls along with Farmer Jones working his fields as birds dig greedily to catch worms among the the freshly plowed acreage with a harmonizing song which is heard as a thank you for their delectable meal all in the name for leaving the big city behind as a brief window of opportunity to escape to sanity to slow down and feel utopia underneath our bare feet