Imagine: Strawberry Fields without any Strawberries
I used to know someone who joked around with a mischievous smile that “Everybody loves you when you’re six foot in the ground.” He was the godfather of hippies who used to sing “All you need is love!” with his old guitar. The sincere philanthropist, environmentalist, and musician, John Lennon has been under the ground for few decades now. However, his songs are still echoing in people’s mind in the name of peace and love. I visited Strawberry Fields, the heart of the culture that John Lennon created, on the day after his seventieth birthday.
At first, my day started out as an ordinary Sunday evening. After coming back from church, my cousin’s family and I sat in front of the dinner table, casually joking around whose life was more miserable. This typical dinner conversation was dramatically changed when my cousin-in-law brought John Lennon to our table. My cousin-in-law, who has been playing guitar for more than 30 years, told us that yesterday was John Lennon’s birthday. John Lennon from the Beatles, of course I knew him. Once the main singer-songwriter for the world’s famous band the Beatles, met Yoko Ono, fell madly in love with her, abandoned everything that appeared profitable in his life, ditched the Beatles, and decided to live his remaining life as a happy hippie in Manhattan instead. Or at least, that was all what I knew about him.
I always had a tendency of separating music from art. I often introduced myself as an artist, but music was something totally outside of my sphere of interest. Furthermore, I had a cheesy taste as a listener. I was born and raised in the 90s, growing up listening to all that “pop-sick-cle” music featured by the Backstreet boys and Britney Spears. Then, there came the 21st century and I danced to the “Boom Boom Pow” flow with obnoxiously loud bass sound and incomprehensible rap. When my cousin-in-law asked me if I want to visit Strawberry Fields, I thought why not- I love strawberries. He kindly informed me that we’re going to Strawberry Fields not strawberry picking. It was the little portion of Central Park that was dedicated to the memories of John Lennon. Oh, okay, I thought, still why not. At least, there should be one strawberry if they named after it like that.
When we finally arrived at the 72nd street, west side of Central Park, we could hear a band playing Lennon’s song “Imagine” from a distance. My family and I walked faster and faster as if we are drawn to a magnetic field. In the middle everyone -hippies, non-hippies, musicians, and non-musicians- we finally stopped. I had no idea how that happened, but I started to sing along with them. I didn’t even know that I knew the lyrics. We sang and sang in complete circles, looking and smiling at each other and the strangers, as if we’ve known each other for a long time.
As to what my kindly cousin-in-law said, there was not even a single strawberry at Strawberry Fields. However, I was able to pick something sweeter than strawberries. It was the seed of culture that John Lennon strived to cultivate throughout his life that eventually grew up into a fruit and ripened in the people’s mind. It was also the power of his culture that made me start imagining a world without religion, possession, greed, and hunger, but only filled with peace and love. Everyone thought he was a dreamer, but he was not the only one. And today, I’m joining this circle of life because I am simply curious- what color is the sky in his heaven?
The image was taken from <http://www.nycgovparks.org/sub_about/parks_history/strawberry_field_images/large/Strawberry_Fields_Forever.jpg>
