So, after an afternoon of sunning and TRX’ing in a park near the Hudson River, and waving at people in those double-decker tourist buses as they passed, iPhones raised and clicking away–
–we decided it was time for some more ambulatory pleasures and walked a block north to the High Line.
The High Line is a set of long-abandoned railway tracks that used to bring meat to the meatpacking district on Manhattan’s far west side. Left in disuse and disrepair for decades, they got revived a few years ago as an elevated urban park, and in that new role they draw crowds from every part of town. The design is rambling and serene, artistic and intriguing, and we’ve gone from time to time as a group, but not recently.
It was early evening, and only a few of us remained, but we had a lovely walk. We checked out some of the artwork that dots the High Line, which ranges from ultra-realistic sculpture…
…to photography (and no, nude sunbathing is not permitted, this is just a photo an artist took at a nude beach and installed here, perhaps in an attempt to confuse).
There is also plenty of interesting downtown architecture to enjoy and to photograph, or to photograph yourself in front of.
And when we descended again, to the streets of Manhattan,
it was just in time to capture the sunset.
Walking the sidewalks once more, we got the usual mix of reactions: Why aren’t you wearing a shirt? on the one hand, Free the nipple! on the other. But none of it unfriendly, and some of it wildly enthusiastic. (Check out the woman on the right, arms upraised. She was shouting “Yes! Yes!” gleefully as she passed.)
All in all, a lovely reminder of what makes NYC both wonderful and unique. There’s room for a little bit of nature among all the concrete and steel–
–and on a hot summer day you can take a stroll without your shirt on, no matter what you’ve got under your clothes.