Eddie Pensier writes:
Today I met frequent UR commenter Tex for a walk along the High Line, the elevated-railroad-track-turned-public-park that runs for a mile through the southwest end of Manhattan.
Discussions of the virtues of the park itself are probably best left to my colleagues who are more well-versed in such matters. What makes the High Line fun for me? The first word gives a clue: it’s high. Ten stories up gives a great vantage point to observe the wonders of Manhattan and the teeming life contained therein. Frequent benches and lookout points invite reflection, picture-taking, and just watching people go by. (The High Line should not be confused with the Hi-Life, where reflection of an altogether different sort has been known to occur.)
Besides the train tracks and the plants (all “native” and “indigenous”, we are assured), one feature that Tex and I noticed was the slightly elevated ridges of concrete from which grass sprouts, placed at the angles in the walkway. I’m sure there is some Very Important Reason for these to exist, but their main purpose seemed to be to get in my way and cause me to stumble every ten steps.
It also, regrettably, gives you a view of some OMG FUGLY buildings nearby. The presence of the High Line has made the far-west bits of Chelsea and the Meatpacking District more attractive to developers and potential residents, the result being some of the blights I took snaps of below the break. I started photographing at 23rd Street and walked downtown: if you know the names of these buildings or their architects, leave a comment so we can assign proper
The Empire State Building in the background provides a sad contrast.
It’s a sorry thing when the construction equipment is more interesting-looking than the Frank Gehry building it’s next to.
This might have been my favorite thing I saw on the High Line: a cheeky bronze satyr wearing a kilt, by artist Sean Landers.