R. A. Lafferty once concieved of a planet and society called the Cameroi, which he (evidently) thought of as being his utopia (or dysutopia, he's that kind of an author). In it, there is but one kind of every possible landscape: one mountain range, one vast prairie, one large ocean, one long beach, one savannalands, one forest...you get the idea. Now, consider this transplanted into the Northeastern North American landscape entire, and shrunk into the confines of a large urban domain. Some parts are going to be miniaturized, some done away altogether (19th century science couldn't maintain, for instance, desert lands in this space, while we can), but it's all there, in a way that defies most people's expectations even now.

Such is Prospect Park.

No two places are the same! There is a Great Lawn, a forest with a Romantic ravine (subbing for mountain scenery), beyond which is the mysterious NetherMeade (a hidden forest close). There is an artificial wetlands, and a large lake (subbing for the sea). There are pavillions in every known (to the 19th century) archetectural style, from Chinese to Southern Neoclassic (think Tara), and it's also home to a particularly large species of dragonfly (about 10 cm.) that flies in formation in huge swarms. In short, a backdrop for every fantasy, made vest-pocket size and tidy.

It used to be a cliche of Hollywood screenwriters to have a character who, hailing from Noo Yawk, sighed for Mabel (or Mildred), and could not be dissuaded from the delusion that any vista in Europe wasn't bettered by (or at least equal to) Prospect Park.

Sorry. They were (mostly) right.