I haven’t had the chance to upload my pictures yet, but this morning before work I had the pleasure of visiting the “High Line” park here in NYC. It’s basically an old extension of an expressway (at least that is what it looks like) that has been completely renovated and turned into a parkish type walkway. I walked the expanse from Ganservoort Street to 14th street, and encountered lots of old couples or young hipsters trying to sketch things. But it was everything besides the people that got me thinking…
Bumble bees were pollinating clusters fiery pink flowers that were planted alongside old, rusty looking bars that very obviously used to be the part of a highway. Small trees were thriving, sprouting out of the rocky ground and overhanging the sides of the High Ling fencing just enough so that the passerby on Washington Street could see. Signs were scattered over the walkway that said “Keep it Wild; Stay on the Pathway”. Now this park was anything BUT the wild, if we are going to abide by Thoreau’s concept of “wild/wildness”, anything that is completely untouched by mankind and in its most natural, essential form. Everything about that park was landscaped, planned, planted and maintained by the flesh and blood of humanity. Hell, it was built on top of an old expressway of some sort! Yet in a world where the human hand has grappled with just about everything, I am starting to believe that this definition is extinct.
Urban environmentalism, a new concept that many don’t really know how to interpret, conceptualize, or apply. Does it mean tiny, egg-beater looking wind turbines on top of buildings generating our own wind power? Does it mean hybrid taxi’s and photovoltaic cells lining the roofs of apartments? Or is it a Manhattan wide recycling service that has started to pick up compost, or that every single New York resident should have access to some sort of green-space within ten blocks (maybe if we’re referring to PlaNYC 2030, but I want to stick to my point). If environmentalism is going to be a widespread, inherent part of humanity’s conscious thought processes, then the idea of our wild environment has to adapt.
I would never go so far as to not whole-heartedly appreciate Natural Wildlife Preserves, National Parks, hiking trails, and other very well-preserved natural areas that still grip tightly onto what the planet would have naturally decided the area should look, smell, and function like. But in a world that is now predominantly living in cities (over 50% of the earth’s population lives in an urban setting as of 2007), the environment cannot be seen as something out of reach that can only be experienced if you are wearing birkenstocks, a bandana, and riding your bike or paddling your kayak through some unknown, remote area. While that is fun (besides the birkenstocks) refreshing, and essential to many people’s well being, the environment also has to be envisioned where the majority of humanity now lives–in cities. And this park, the High Line, was the perfect expression of this idea. NYC is opening community gardens that are farming small vegetables, opening greenhouses atop of buildings, and now, making parks out of our broken, run-down infrastructure. It takes vision, planning, and maintenance, but as long as these initiatives are built and maintained in a sustainable way, why not accept these adaptations as our feeble, yet admirable/commendable attempts to reconnect with the planet in a modern way. As long as we do not go so far as to say that ‘we create the environment’, these built glimpses at the ‘environment’ fosters thoughts and appreciation for the realities that indeed to exist and need to be maintained.
I could write for hours about this, and I still feel like it wouldn’t come out the appropriate way, so I will just leave it as is.

