The High Line Park is an exquisite example of a metropolitan take on nature. Situated atop an abandoned railway, the longitudinal park is filled with various sorts of flora, from grass and flowers to shout and sturdy trees. The plants are not randomly dispersed about the railway, as the trees are concentrated to a shaded area near the north end of the park, while smaller growths can be seen in patches throughout the area.
Many of the pictures taken here are situated at around 20th Street and under (the fuller growths on the northward end made for poor images with my shoddy photography).
A bee lands on a flower as it flits between several plants.
A pair of bees share space on a yellow flower.
Some butterflies hold onto a few plants after an elegant dance.
Evidently, a large quantity of my pictures taken included bees as the pollinator of choice. This is due to their larger bodies (relative to the tiny flies) and their yellow-black contrast made them easier targets for photography. Were I an actual biologist, I’d hazard my photographic skills would not get me far. Nevertheless, I also captured an image of (presumably) butterflies, white, fluttery and commonly seen flitting from place to place within the metropolis (they might be moths; if so then my mistake).
It’s a bird, patient enough for me to snag a photo before taking to the skies once more.
That one was a small bird, a youngling I presumed, and though it is probably not a pollinator, it was a convenient photo to take nonetheless. Photography is an art form, and that one was nice (compared to the other few dozen failures fortunately not seen here).
Greetings from the High Line!
And yes, I was there. Although it has apparently been a significant amount of time since my last incursion; I did not recall small food stands in one of the underpasses on my last trip. I don’t think it’s a terribly intrusive addition to the park, but it does limit the traffic somewhat.
The High Line Park is a modest example of what Marris wishes to establish as a Rambunctious Garden. It is a space that, instead of being carelessly cut down for scrap (which would be a task in its own right), was refurbished to attract wildlife. Granted, it was already encouraging a variety of flora prior to its renovation, suggested by Stalter that it was partially due to the uncommon human traffic upon the closed system. It is not assisted migration per se, though it bears some semblance of rewilding. In fact, it may very well be the preservationist idea that Marris is so vehemently trying to discourage. And yet, perhaps because of its recent baseline, one couldn’t really call it a preserve in the conventional sense of using a much older baseline (pre-Columbian or pre-Anthropocene, for instance).
There was likely some destruction of such “pest” species in the construction of the High Line, as well as some research into what was “naturally” there when it became derelict. From what I could gather, it did seem more limited than the catalogue that Stalter was able to scrounge up. Of course, I’m no plant expert, so similar plants may have been recorded and I could have simply overlooked their subtleties. Yet, given all of the wildlife it has attracted (birds, some insects, a TON OF BEES, and a dragonfly that was persistently hovering over my head the entire time), who’s to say new species won’t enter the park in due time?
Thus, the High Line is something of a compromise between preservationists and Marris. There was destruction and displacement of some species, while others were reintroduced and/or encouraged. There was a presumed baseline for the renovation, yet it is recent enough to be accepting of some of Marris’ nonconventional ideas. It may not be what Marris envisioned—not by a long shot—but it’s a start, and with potential global catastrophes looming, any foothold is a good lead.
