We were at the park, looking for a good place to eat a picnic. We spotted a nice patch on the side of a hill, lush and green, half in shadow, half in sun. But when we got there, the grass was sparse and spiky and the ground was mostly mud. We did this a few more times. From a distance, the park appeared deeply green, thick with grass, but upon arrival this turned out not to be the case.
The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. I had always thought this expression concerned humans' innate covetousness. That our greedy brain is skewed to see yourself as impoverished and everyone else as rich. But the events in the park made me realize a simple fact: seen from a distance a patch of grass will truly appear greener. Due to foreshortening, the further afield you look, the more grass is condensed in a smaller area of vision. The grass actually DOES look greener, and since a color is merely an impression, if something looks greener, well it IS greener.
This is, perhaps, a minor distinction. But it changed the meaning of the saying for me. Before, I had always thought that it was commentary on the weakness, the sinfulness, if you will, of the human heart. Now I realize it is simply a matter of optics, of physics. Ancient peoples were obsessed with the tricksy quality of reality, with spirits and imps and talking animals with suspicious intent. For modern people, deceit is mostly a human invention. We love to talk about how people lie to each other and about how we lie to ourselves. And of course we do. But don’t forget: the world also lies. The grass is greener on the other side. But when you get there, it is mostly mud. You have not tricked yourself. You have been tricked. The universe fools us.
