February 9, 2003
Time was that she relished her walks through Brooklyn’s industrial neighborhoods. They had a certain beauty she couldn’t quite put into words. The squat gray cement buildings were peaceful on the weekends, when they were either silent or occupied only by a skeleton shift of workers milling about on the factory floor. Winter was especially scenic, when the dirty snow and blasts of river wind added to the area’s wasteland appeal. But now it’s become ugly to her. Blocks and blocks without so much as a tree or blade of grass, save for those springing up between the cracked sidewalk.