Park update: Due to construction activity, the northern section of the High Line is temporarily closed from 34th St. to 30th St. (between 10th and 11th Ave.). The nearest accessible entrance is at Hudson Yards or the stair/elevator at 30th St. and 10th Ave.
The High Line’s aesthetic reflects natural cycles of life and death, and evokes feelings of being in a wild space. According to Piet Oudolf, who designed our gardens, “My biggest inspiration is nature. I do not want to copy it, but to recreate the emotion.”
These landscapes don’t just happen on their own. While many natural processes take place in the park, the gardens have also been carefully designed and continuously cared for. Shaping the landscape design requires a good eye and an understanding of how the plantings will evolve over time. Changes in the gardens are guided by a team of gardeners who have collaborated with Oudolf for years.
We create different moods and compositions throughout the seasons. Hundreds of plant species evoke the patterns of woodlands and grasslands. Birds and insects thread through and animate the plantings. The mood of each garden changes through the year, conveying the ever-changing wonder and mystery of wild places.
Walk just a few blocks along the High Line and you’ll pass through several, incredibly different gardens.
We are committed to environmental sustainability in all of our gardening operations and maintenance, including Integrated Pest Management, composting on-site, and pollinator-friendly practices.Learn more about sustainability
Many gardens cut back their plants in fall. At the High Line, we leave our displays of dried leaves, stalks, and seedheads standing through the winter, providing both beauty for visitors and habitat for birds and other animals. To make room for new spring growth, hundreds of volunteers join our gardeners every March to complete the massive task of cutting back our plants by hand, to be composted and returned to the soil.Learn more about Spring Cutback and how to volunteer
'' Seasonal change occurs in a near-infinite succession of small moments, and learning to see and understand these little happenings is a worthy lifetime pursuit.'