High Line: A Rebirth

I remember the day so vividly. The clouds shielding the sun’s rays, the wind whipping my skin, cold to the touch, and the rain pouring heavily, my clothes absorbing the droplets like a sponge, I started walking slowly towards the High Line from the subway station, not equipped with a much needed umbrella. I was in search of an answer. I wanted to take my usual stroll on the Coney Island boardwalk, but the artificial fun nature created by the amusement parks and colorful trash cans would only distract me in my quest. The streets were empty and the buildings appeared gloomy, with the only place with a positive atmosphere being the Starbucks that was directly to the right of me, which was packed with diverse groups of people, many of whom were hanging out with their friends or family members. I wished I could be like one of them, being surrounded by loved ones and sharing the laughter and happiness together. However, my world was turned upside down.

I lost everything that I had known and loved. My friends left me one by one, submitting to death and its subordinates, comprised of diseases and cancers. My family members were always so busy, with my parents working nonstop and my older siblings always hanging out with their friends and preoccupied with their schoolwork. I was looking for a rebirth, an understanding of the agonizing pain that I’ve kept jarred up inside of me for all these years, and learning how to confront it, the High Line seemed like an ideal location due to the natural elements it exhibited. Its elevated state would isolate me from the urban setting, allowing me to think clearly without any interruptions. After crossing many streets, I finally reached the entrance of the stairs that would lead me to the site of my possible rebirth. My clothes were completely drenched at this point and my countenance had an obvious look of depression plastered on it. Without much hesitation, I walked up the stairs, one step at a time, not looking back.

Upon reaching the surface of the High Line, the rain subsided and I noticed the rail tracks incorporated into the stone plank flooring. The stainless steel rails and glass gave it a “clean and shaved” appearance. There were many planting areas scattered around, containing embedded rail tracks and soaked plants with leaves that drooped downwards, with the water droplets dropping in a periodical manner. The benches, made up of a combination of protruding stone planks, metal, and wood, waited for someone to sit on them to give them meaning for their existences, but there were only approximately ten people walking around, primarily using the High Line as a short-cut to get to their destinations a lot faster. I began walking down the narrow path, looking down and noticing how the stone planks served as an irrigation system, permitting runoff water from the rain to travel to planting areas, quenching the plants’ thirsts.

After walking through a tunnel enclosed by a brick building, I continued to pass more planting areas and passed a gathering area with rows of wooden benches descending downwards, culminating with three affixed sheets of glass that allowed people to look down on the traffic flow below. I kept my concentration on the promenade, preventing my eyes from moving in the direction of the tall buildings surrounding the High Line. Suddenly, my eyes were mesmerized by a drinking fountain with a heart inscribed on its push button, which caused me to feel even more tribulation because of what the heart symbolized. I walked towards the fountain, pushed the button, and lowered my head to drink some water. A computer generated voice was emitted from it, but its cold sound and the concerned message it was trying to convey confused me. Why was it using a cold sounding voice to convey a warm message? Perplexed, I took my last mouthful of water before moving on.

As I proceeded on, I stopped momentarily to examine a sculpture called the “Still Life with Landscape,” which was divided by the pathway. It resembled an open gateway produced from thin steel rods, but when I saw that it had bird feeding areas and showers, I was able to understand that it was more than just an art piece. It served a crucial role for the little sparrows residing in the various plants of the High Line. When I noticed a lone sparrow looking around, probably for its “friends” and “family members,” another sparrow flew down from above and perched itself near the lone sparrow. Coincidentally, the two both flew to same feeding area with small black seeds, and together, they feasted on them. The way the sparrow joined the lone sparrow made me realize that although my friends may not physically be with me, they each live in a small place inside of my heart. Although I am not a religious person, somehow, I have gained this notion that my friends are looking over me from above. A cathartic and therapeutic experience, I found the answer I was looking for and felt as if I was reborn, more confident than ever before. The clouds dissipated and the sun shined down upon me, signifying the completion of my rebirth.