It’s cold outside, 19 degrees according to my weather app, but on the windy High Line it’s colder still. And yet: what a perfect day to be here. The sky is a painter’s cerulean blue, and the sun is bright. It angles its light across the park, making the grasses tawny and casting beautiful shadows across the pavement.
And the park is empty, but for a few hardy souls. It’s also quiet, because many of the ubiquitous construction crews seem to have found indoor projects. On days like this I remember that the High Line is our park — a neighborhood place where you can pop by for a quick, enjoyable walk in the middle of a busy day. It’s going to be like this through the week, lucky us.
