We in Pittsburgh are possessive and particular about our neighborhood treasures. For folks atop Mount Washington, that treasure is its spectacular view of the Golden Triangle.

We're three years into an ambitious yet subtle enhancement of that experience, a half-million-dollar landscaping of the sloping hillside. It's called Grand View Scenic Byway Park. Not every neighborhood resident is a believer, however.

I took a long tour of Grandview Avenue in June with one of its more vocal residents, Frank Valenta. He is vice president of the neighborhood group and is unimpressed when he looks down the hill.

"They've already planted trees and nobody knows where the hell they're at," Mr. Valenta, 81, said.

The trees are small, some are no more than bushes. Spicebush, nannyberry, purple-flowering raspberry, black chokeberry and three species of dogwoods are among an estimated 800 plants that have been planted on a long stretch beside the Monongahela Incline, another stretch west of the Duquesne Incline and a third outside Bigbee Field,

They don't look like much, tucked amid the tall grasses that have been planted, too, but their unobtrusiveness is by design.

The Mount Washington Community Development Corporation voted last month to reaffirm its position that nothing should be planted that will block the view, and the person hired three years ago to birth this park says she shares that goal. This park is designed so the average adult in a wheelchair on the Grandview sidewalk will have an unobstructed view of the city skyline.

I did a 90-minute recon with Ilyssa Manspeizer, the park resource manager, and came away believing she knows what she's doing.

The big buzzword these days is "sustainable," and the way the city traditionally operated on Mount Washington didn't fit that definition. A wild plant called tree of heaven can grow hellishly tall on that hillside. City workers would top these and other invasive trees, but they would grow back, wider and higher, and workers would return every year.

It makes far more sense to plant trees or bushes that never grow high. And, on this green belt across the top of Mount Washington, invasive plants are removed before they get too comfy.

"To me, it looks great," Ms. Manspeizer said.

You might need to see the "before" pictures from 2006 and 2007 to know why. Lush grass beats high weeds, but it's not showy. Given the view across the Monongahela, it doesn't need to be.

Over by Bigbee Field -- where, locals brag, the great Johnny Unitas threw the football as a kid -- dozens of small trees are caged with a thin, green plastic fencing to protect them from deer. (We didn't see any deer on our tour, but we did join a family checking out a pair of fat and happy groundhogs just under one of the overlooks.)

"Last year, at this time, this was like a tropical knotweed forest," Ms. Manspeizer said as we walked around the football field.

I'm told a city crew was on Grandview yesterday in yet another bit of prep work for the G-20 summit. This park is of a piece with the "green" tint of that event, but I'd seen spots where city clear-cutting in the recent past made for a pretty rough look. One hopes they make this a trim and not a bad haircut, and it's good there's time for natural growth to mend any mistakes. My little sister used a similar principle when she timed her haircut for her wedding.

The money for this project comes from foundations, but it's infused with local sweat, too. Ms. Manspeizer said she'll organize a crew to pick up litter and drop grass seed on any bare spots city crews might leave. Pittsburgh's natural summit should be spiffy before the international summit begins.

Mr. Valenta is old school and thinks these fancy plants are a bit overmuch. "Put crown vetch in there and you got it made." As for the grasses, "go over there in October and they're all dead." He and others also have concerns about parking in Duquesne Heights if that stretch of Grandview becomes a picnic spot.

Sometimes Ms. Manspeizer has to remind herself that great changes take time, and believing this park will be fully realized takes some faith.

I suggested that sounded a bit like being a Pirates fan, but she said, no, this park doesn't require "quite so much faith."