I'm working on a full-length novel called "Glade". I wrote a very early draft for the story way back in September, 2000.
Most of that was written whilst I sat in a tiny, Korean, internet cafe surrounded by Starcraft gamers and the smell of stale cigarette smoke and cold cup-ramyeon. I was fortunate to have the terminal by the only window and was able to look out over the street below as workers surgically tore up the road to implant the new subway line beneath. Beyond the grey uniformity of the buildings and the constant flow of traffic there was a splotch of green; a small island of colour in a bland cityscape.
The 'park' was nothing more than a few car lengths in size, but was large enough to have a wooden bench beneath a solitary tree. The tree looked old and tired. I liked to think that the tree looked up and saw me watching it and for a fleeting moment it revealed to me a time when it was young and the land was different. It was a nice thought.
The story doesn't have anything to do with that directly, but I got the idea from it.