Toddler poses for us on The High Line. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

With cloudless cobalt blue skies above and people coming out of the woodwork, you wouldn’t have known yesterday that Hurricane Irene’s wrath was predicted to hit New York City the next evening. In preparation for hunkering down, I walked the High Line from its beginning at 14th Street to the end of the newest portion, Section 2, at 30th Street.

Enjoying the sunshine on one of the built-in wood sliding chaise longues. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Walking the High Line is a different experience every time I do it, as something new is always in bloom.

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Hydrangeas against a backdrop of brick. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

One lone red leaf signals the onset of Autumn. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

High Line Vendors: Wait It Out or Go?

You could still get ice cream, but the coffee vendor closed. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

One vendor, from whom I wanted to buy a coffee, turned me down as she had just turned off her power and was preparing to leave, worried about the impending storm. Others would be there till the first drop of rain or gust of wind.

Relaxing and Playing Before the Storm

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Part of Section 2, a strip of lawn above, abuts a wall of tiered decking that provides seating and a great spot for people-watching.

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Kids ran along the planted walks, lovers kissed, and everyone was out generally enjoying the last spectacular summer day before Irene’s hostile visit.

For the Birds, Butterflies, and Ladybugs
Feasting on apples, sipping water, and flying from perch to perch, even the city’s feathered friends took advantage of the beautiful day perching themselves on the High Line’s contemporary bird condos, artist Sarah Sze’s installation, Still Life with Landscape (Model for a Habitat).

Modern bird condos along the High Line. Room and board included. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Installed between 20th and 21st Streets, the sculptural steel and wood construction of bird, ladybug, and butterfly structures marks one of the entrances to the High Line, where the elevated park’s micro-climate is often referred to as the Chelsea Thicket.

Birds feeding on the High Line. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

In stark contrast to the Frank Gehry and Jean Nouvel luxury buildings visible from the High Line, these Manhattan spaces include room and board: High Line attendants fill the feeding trays with seeds and nectar while specially designed miniature troughs collect rainwater for thirsty birds.

Steppin’ Out on a Nice Day

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

I made some friends along the route. When it’s a gorgeous day, people get very friendly.

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

The security guard above was happy to pose. I was looking for the pop-up skating rink; like many things, it was already closed for the hurricane.

A Collage of Contrasts
One of the things I most enjoy about the High Line is the contrast of textures and images, soft foliage against industrial materials like metal and stone, and nature against urban development. The flowers below are especially interesting against the backdrop of a black and white billboard.

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton

Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton

Theater of High Line Neighbors
Sort of site-specific theater on its own, the High Line borders several new buildings whose large glass windows face directly onto the space, offering residents a great view of the High Line but precious little privacy. Some take advantage of this and use their spaces for public art installations. I once saw two women perform a skit on their High Line facing balcony for passersby.

A private art installation encourages public viewing of a private space. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Driftwood privacy screen offers a bit of privacy. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

Some residents do their best to maintain privacy in their outdoor spaces. On a balcony above, a clever natural all-season privacy screen was created from various lengths of driftwood. It must have taken a while to haul it all upstairs.

Irene, Please Go Easy on Us!

No dumplings, pizza, or falafel today. Photo: Robin Plaskoff Horton.

On an adjacent lot at 30th Street, where you’d find a pop-up rollerskating rink on a beautiful day and some of New York City’s most popular food trucks, the sign read closed due to Hurricane Irene.