I've noticed how an action as simple as looking up can change both our perception of the built environment and our interactions with other people. I've often caught the eye of passersby and exchanged smiles while looking up at some building or urban feature of interest. This sometimes even leads to conversations with strangers.

While travelling in Valencia, Spain in May, I was struck by the vertical interactions taking place in the Turia Garden, a riverbed turned urban park that weaves 9km through the city. All through and around this park, one has the sensation of looking up and down and of the different feeling that comes with inhabiting each of these distinct levels.

People running on a dirt path in a park with purple-flowered trees and a historic building with a blue dome in the background.

The photograph shows the exterior of the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles with its distinctive curved, metallic architecture. People are seen jogging and sitting in the open area beneath the building, with a clear blue sky above.

The experience of walking along its edges and looking down into this strand of greenery evokes intrigue: glimpses of a football game taking place below the tree canopy, the thumping beat of a hidden concert somewhere in the trees, and the ding and clatter of bicycles carrying people to and from the park via its many on ramps and off ramps.

The view from above is even more intriguing when crossing one of the abundant and uniquely designed overpasses. Looking down from the overpasses, a section of the park and some pleasurable new activity taking place is revealed: from one bridge I see a pond facing a performance space, the next looks down upon an outdoor fitness park while another overlooks an elaborate and sculptural children's playground.

A stone bridge over a small river, surrounded by palm trees, with a clear blue sky in the background.

People walking and riding bikes in an open urban space under a modern white bridge with an arched design, in a sunny day with blue sky.

From within the Turia Gardens, one is sunken below the city and road level. This and the abundance of fluffy foliage buffer the park acoustically from the traffic. In the park, it is quieter and one is less aware of he city above except for the experience of being walled in on either side since it is narrow enough that you can always see the opposite side. This feeling of comfortable sunken-ness and enclosure is interspersed with a strong awareness of the Above (the 'Up') each time one passes under the aforementioned overpasses. If the overpasses are architecturally interesting from above, they are even more so from below. Some have tiled plazas beneath, one has palm trees growing up through holes in the structure and, my personal favourite, features a band of gargoyles on either side that act as downspouts for the bridge above, spitting water into a drain on the ground. Approaching the underpasses, one often looks up to see passersby looking down on them from above. You feel vaguely like a spectacle in this sunken park yet a willing one since the park is such a delight to inhabit.

A park scene with palm trees, a bridge with a woman walking underneath and people on the grass, some are taking photos. The sky is clear and blue.

An outdoor corridor with a vaulted ceiling supported by columns. The ceiling is decorated with eagle-shaped light fixtures. The corridor has stone pavement with a central drainage grate and is well-lit by sunlight.

The vertical stratification of the Turia Gardens was a new experience of looking Up for me. As someone who looks up a lot, I have an understanding that where we look can impact our awareness of our surroundings and may even influence our interactions. The Turia Gardens lead me further down this thread to consider that where we are spatially situated in the urban environment and where the environment may, by design, tempt us to look could influence how we interact with our fellow citizens. Isn't it a nice idea to think of living in a city that makes us WANT to look up?