If you’re ever in need of some tranquillity in the city that never sleeps, take a little walk to two surprising gems tucked away in the most unexpected places
The sight and sound of water cascading down a rockface is as relaxing as it is breathtaking. And here I was, witnessing a beautiful waterfall in action while I took in the air and sat down by a rocky plinth nearby in quiet contemplation.
Life felt good. Life felt perfect. The waterfall provided a calming soundtrack to me sitting cross-legged, concentrating on my breathing and focusing on the present moment. And then I heard the sound of a New York taxi cab screeching to a halt. The driver flew into a rage over someone crossing the road while glued to their phone. There went my moment of zen.
The waterfall in question was in Greenacre Park, an intimate public space in Manhattan. It’s nestled one block from Lexington Avenue, nine blocks from Grand Central station and a few minutes away from the Rockefeller Center.
It’s also one of a handful of urban waterfalls hidden in New York City that provide locals and tourists much needed relief from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. The other one I visited was Paley Park, an 11-minute walk from Greenacre Park and one with a more touching history.
Interestingly, the waterfall at Paley Park is around the corner from Uniqlo’s giant Fifth Avenue branch. Perfect after a long day of bargain hunting – just don’t get your purchases wet.
For a city famed for never sleeping, having these hidden gems was a relief. I had spent most of the morning frantically finding a present for my newborn niece in places such as Bloomingdale’s, Macy’s and the M&M’s store.
Having no luck in finding a good gift, I set about walking to Greenacre Park. Through W 48th Street, up Lexington Avenue and into E 51st Street – it was an easy, if not crowded, stroll through NYC. The mild weather wasn’t bad either, but the sound of traffic and the smell of street food were pretty heady.
No sooner did I wish for the noise to end that I turned the corner into Greenacre Park and all anxieties flew out the window. The park is surrounded by wall-to-wall ivy, while giant urns of seasonal flowers are dotted around the chairs and tables used by lunch breakers.
A quick glance at the sky and you can see the park hemmed in by giant high-rises – to make the park feel more secluded and intimate than ever.
But the centrepiece of the park was the 25ft-high waterfall, constructed from sculpted granite blocks. All next to some mature honey locust trees, russet brick paving and the rocky seating area I mentioned earlier.
The park opened in 1971, the brainchild of the Greenacre Foundation, which still runs the site. Chilling out in front of that marvellous waterfall was a blissful experience – right up until the taxi broke the peace.
With Greenacre done, it was off to Paley Park. This little public space was opened in 1967 by CBS founder William Paley as a tribute to his father. Like Greenacre Park, it is covered in flowing green ivy and has a canopy formed of honey locust trees.
But its waterfall is far more striking – a 20ft backlit wall of water. It looked like an art installation. As I saw the waterfall, a couple of TikTokers posed for shots nearby – no doubt, they made good use of the waterfall’s lighting as well as their own iPhone flashbulbs.
Paley Park felt a little more exposed to the elements, but the waterfall more than made up for that. It was definitely a fabulous experience and a great little find deep in Manhattan.
Sitting there in silent contemplation, I couldn’t help but think that New York outdid itself by introducing these urban waterfalls more than 50 years ago. Two perfect additions to a city that never fails to surprise and amaze. It was also nice to not worry about where to go shopping next.
With the clock nearing 5pm, I made my way out of Paley Park to meet some friends. I was reminded that I was still in the city when I saw a group of skateboarders taking photos of themselves doing tricks in front of the waterfall. “Catch me in mid air with the water!” screamed one of them.
At that point, I attempted a less than daring photo. And, well, it came out fine. A good memory of time hunting down Manhattan’s secret waterfalls.