Ever been stuck in a traffic jam that was so interminable you began dreaming about being lifted above it all and then miraculously transported to your destination? That’s a bit like what walking on the High Line park in New York City feels like.
Surpassing all expectations, the High Line is a park like you've never experienced. Located on an old train line on Manhattan’s West Side, it runs from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District to West 20th Street in Chelsea, between Tenth and Eleventh avenues. If you were traversing this distance on the ground, you’d experience the not-always-pleasant sensory overload of soot, smells, traffic noise and close proximity to legions of other pedestrians. But if you climb up to the High Line, you’ll be utterly transported from the grit and grime of the city.
On a recent trip to NYC, I dodged taxis on busy 10th Avenue and ascended to this:

This project has been a long time in the making, and it was easy to think it might not live up to its promise. But it's almost a new paradigm of a park. It reveals the uncanny ability of New Yorkers to make any sliver of open space their own. (The city has been working hard to provide more slivers, with such projects as the Times Square pedestrian project, which I applaud...but I must confess I won’t be plopping down into one of those lawn chairs anytime soon. Too crowded!)

The High Line was built in the 1930s after so many pedestrian accidents occurred between freight trains and street-level traffic that the area was known as Death Avenue. The High Line, which eliminated 105 street-level railroad crossings, opened to trains in 1934. It was designed so that trains could roll right inside of buildings, allowing things like milk, meat, produce and other goods to come and go without causing traffic on the street. By the 1950s, however, as trucking grew as an industry, rail traffic decreased dramatically, and by 1980, the last train ran on the High Line.
Throughout the '80s, attempts were made to demolish the whole structure, but a local resident worked to stall these efforts. While he wasn't able to re-establish rail service, he was able to prevent the High Line's demolition. In 1999, two other local residents, Joshua David and Robert Hammond, decided to advocate for the preservation of the area and its use as public space.
The city okayed the High Line in 2002; a design competition was held in 2003 with more than 700 teams participating. The High Line organization posed the question “Why do you think the High Line should be saved?” to local residents and business owners, who were involved in design discussions along the way. The winning design was created by landscape architect James Corner of Field Operations, with architects Diller Scofidio + Renfro.

This unusual location called for a different sort of park: nothing too manicured or too precious. The design elements needed to be beautiful and durable enough to survive the diverse, bustling neighborhood, home to both meat processing plants and boutiques from the likes of Stella McCartney.
Plantings were inspired by the self-seeded landscape that grew on the out-of-use elevated rail tracks for a quarter century. Landscape architects James Corner Field Operations and the Netherlands-based Piet Oudolf chose species for their hardiness, sustainability, and textural and color variation, with a focus on native plants. Anything too precious would have been ridiculous. The promenade itself is inventive with variations in texture and topography.

Unique seating configurations, such as built-in chaise lounges and stadium-style benches, allow for lunchtime get-togethers, solitary sunbathing or just a nice place to rest while enjoying gelato purchased from a cart in the park. They even have site-specific art installations.
There are lots of amazing rooftops in NYC (like this beautiful one from Brooklyn's Pulltab Design, below), but few are open to the public.

[Garden by Pulltab Design; photos by Bilyana Dimitrova]
The High Line is a great gift: People look happier up here! The small stretch of the city provides a short respite from the hustle and bustle of the city. Especially in the heat of July, when I visited, this elevated escape is magical.










