My first reaction to the Green Belt was puzzlement: I was looking for it on the Priwall Peninsula, the beginning or the end (depending on which way you look) of the border that cut across the German landscape during the Cold War. There were few remains of the military installations and I could see no flashy natural wonders. I realized quickly that finding it would require detective work, and that the natural wonders were of a more subtle kind than in, say, Yellowstone Park.  They are, however, no less significant: over 1,200 rare and threatened plant and animal species have been documented in and along this narrow ribbon of land. Fascinated by this irony of history, I embarked on a bicycle expedition along this 1,393 km long trace in the landscape to explore its history and meaning. I wrote about it in an essay for the Revelator (the online magazine of the Center for Biological Diversity) and in my book about the human and ecological stories surrounding the former border, today's Green Belt (Phantom Border. A Personal Reconnaissance of Contemporary Germany). 
The nomination of the Green Belt as a mixed natural and cultural world heritage site strikes me as profoundly meaningful. As both a living memorial to those who died there and a flagship conservation project, it inspires visitors to contemplate our place in the human and more-than-human story on this planet.