For those of us who followed the decade-long struggle first to save the old elevated railroad from demolition and then to turn it into the High Line park, the first day seemed like a miracle â€“ like walking on a beach boardwalk that has been placed Jetson-like in mid-air in Manhattan, a sudden mile-long oasis added to an area — the Meatmarket District, the Far West Village, the Far West Side — that is unequal parts industrial, hip, decrepit, Euro chic, down-home retro, overpriced, underdeveloped, overdeveloped, stylish, still smelly. The temptation to photograph this brand new park is too great, even though it has already been captured by some of the best photographers of New York â€“in other words, some of the best photographers in the world â€“ and will undoubtedly continue to be so for a long time to come.
So forgive me my hubris (and if any of my photographs look out of focus to you, blame it on the honey mustard sauce that I got on the lens.)
The High Line is now open seven days a week, from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. , running from Gansevoort to 20th Street. Entrance is on Gansevoort and Washington Streets.