Before Copia closed without warning in November, the landscaped grounds were not just beautiful, they were deliciously so.

Orchards, olive groves, a vineyard and seasonal plantings of fruits and vegetables suggested a modern-day garden of Eden. Crushed granite walkways and a flowing canal were kept pristine.

But Eden has fallen on hard times.

Parking near the locked main entry Friday afternoon, Dale Martin of the Napa County Mosquito Abatement District inspected the fetid canal for signs of mosquitos.

A citizen had complained of swampy conditions in the once clear-flowing waterway in the south gardens, Martin said. Sure enough, rotting autumn leaves had turned the water brown. Algae were growing. So were mosquito larvae.

Martin had taken care of the problem. With the weather getting warm, he would continue to keep an eye on things, knocking down the mosquitos before they can take wing, he said.

Viewed from First Street, Copia still looked as spiffy as the day it opened seven years ago. Old Glory flapped in the breeze. Banners reading “Smell,” “Create,” “Enjoy,” “Savor” and “Sip” beckoned visitors.

These banners are a big tease. “No Trespassing” signs are posted at Copia entrances where pumpkins and bales of hay from Halloween are reminders of happier times.

Crunchy oak leaves have blown into the entry, piling beneath the elegant bas-relief sculpture of Copia, the Roman goddess of abundance. A sign in the box office window advertises “Today At Copia,” but the information box beneath it is empty.

During a one-hour period early Friday afternoon, only two vehicles pulled up to Copia. One was driven by a guard from Black Talon Security. He tested the doors to make sure they were locked, then walked around building. All was secure.

The other vehicle was driven by Carl Siegel, a Vallejo man who hadn’t gotten the word of Copia’s demise. On his drive to Napa, he had passed a Copia billboard on Highway 29 reading “Good Times. Uncorked.”

The billboard had lied.

 Siegel had intended to inquire if Copia needed a groundskeeper. Speaking to the guard, he learned that Copia had gone “belly up,” he said.

Too bad, Siegel said. He’d come once before to Copia, intending to see what Wine Country’s highly-touted cultural center offered, but got put off by the $12.50 admission price. He never did get to see the insides of Copia, he said.

The building looks good, but not so much the grounds, Siegel said. “Their trees need pruning,” he said.

Nothing was stirring in the three-and-a-half acres of “edible gardens” except for a woman in the south patch who was hauling a hose. She wouldn’t give her name, but said she was a laid-off employee who couldn’t tolerate the prospect of plants dying while Copia goes through its bankruptcy proceedings.

She had hand-watered the potted plants next to the Copia building and had just turned on the automatic irrigation for the garden boxes. The city hasn’t turned off the water, she noted.

Technically, she was trespassing, she said, but for a good cause. “I come back just to check on things,” she said.

Vandalism and theft have occurred, she said. Someone had used oranges for a food fight. Vegetables and equipment have disappeared.

“Some angry vendors that Copia owes money to have been coming in and feeling entitled,” she said. “I call it looting.”

The garden is still producing food, she said. Kale and bok choy planted the week of the closing are coming into maturity. Lettuce, cabbage and broccoli, too.

The ex-employee said she feels compelled to tend the garden, although she’s not getting paid and Copia owes her about $2,000 in back wages. “If you’re a gardener or a creature lover, you take care of these things. You don’t want to see them die,” she said.

She and several others have harvested food from the Copia gardens for the Napa Valley Food Bank, she said. A grassroots movement is afoot to organize caretakers for the 2009 growing season, she said.

The anonymous volunteer was packing up for the day, cradling a cauliflower in her hands. “Someone had ripped the plant out of the ground,” she said. “I’m making sure it doesn’t go to waste. I will use it for dinner tonight.”