The unseasonably warm weather is leaving us, and a cold front is coming in announcing itself with high winds and much rain. I watch the dance of the large fir in my backyard.
It’s a little scary. That tree could be as old as I am — I just hope it’s sturdier than I am.

Lights have been flickering and something is beeping at me. Actually two things are beeping at me with tiny beeps. I think one of them is my smoke/CO detector. The other one seems to be my phone, which is connected to a surge protector. I suppose I should investigate all of this, but I think I’ll wait until the storm is over.

I took Carol to the airport at 7 this morning. As we drove toward the city on 376 we could see the buildings downtown wrapped in a gentle mist. Everything gleamed and had a pearl-like quality. I’m sure those steel workers fifty years ago would not have believed this city could look so pristine. There was a cloud settling on the Mon. We could see the edges and the top of it. I was sorry I didn’t have the camera with me, and the time to use it. By the time I got back from the airport at 8 downtown was completely shrouded in fog.

I spend a lot of time in the Frick Art Building on the Pitt campus. Some of my Osher classes and my Japanese Art meet there, and I often use the library. Last week, to my amazement, the fountain in front of the building had an additional decoration. This fountain, dedicated to Mary Schenley who donated the land for nearby Schenley Park and Schenley Plaza, contains two
major figures. A recumbent Pan "represents the yearly regeneration of all plant
life." Above him stands a singer playing a lyre. On the pedestal is inscribed
"A Song of Nature, Pan the Earth God Answers to the Harmony Magic Tones Sung to
the Lyre by Sweet Humankind."  I see this sculpture as a kind of Victorian erotica. The half naked Pan looking up at a woman representing humankind. I guess someone else has had the same thought.

The weather was very nice on Friday afternoon so Darcy and I took a long walk on the Chatham College campus. It is such a beautiful place, I love walking there.
Some of the trees still had brilliantly colored leaves.
Darcy loves it for chasing squirrels, but she is never off the leash so she will never catch one.
I was hoping to see the turkeys. We went down to the pond where we saw them before, but it was early and there was still some active construction work, so no turkeys. When I finally decided to go back  home I noticed a large bird flying nearby. I did not get a good look at him until we were almost out of the campus, but finally he perched in a tree near the parking lot.
I think he is a hawk. As we walked a little further we came upon the turkeys. Was the hawk watching them? We stood watching the hawk watch the turkeys.
There seemed to be only seven turkeys. I wonder if that hawk had something to do with the missing bird.

On Saturday morning I went on a tour of the Carrie Furnace, one of the few remaining remnants of what was once Pittsburgh’s most important industry. I reserved my place on the tour weeks ago. Friday night, with a nasty, cold rain falling, I wasn’t very happy about going. The rain diminished somewhat by the time the tour got going, and I think I appreciated it more because of the bad weather. It kept us grounded in the reality of working there. Our tour guide was a man who had worked there when he was 18, in the 1970s. He was there two years and left to go into the military, as a relief from this job. He said that, although he hated working there, he would not have traded the experience for anything. Now he is dedicated to preserving the site and keeping alive this amazing part of Pittsburgh history. He did such a good job on the tour we really felt what it must have been like to work there, the terrible heat from the furnaces, the constant danger if something went wrong, the extreme cold in winter when you left the furnace area, and the rats. I never thought about rats being in a place like that. So the rain, and the cold, and the puddles of water we walked through made it all very authentic. I am putting up an album of Carrie furnace pictures. For some explanation of what we saw, go to Rivers of Steel.

We went to a play on Saturday night: After Mrs. Rochester, at the Quantum Theater. It was well done, very interesting, but the highlight of the evening occurred before the play. When we drove up to the Carnegie Library in Braddock, where the play was presented, the mayor of Braddock directed us to a parking space, shook our hands and welcomed us to Braddock. The library is the first one built by Andrew Carnegie, and the auditorium has been beautifully restored. Steve, the New Yorker, constantly marvels at Pittsburgh. When he went to a baseball game the usher dusted off the seats before they sat down. Then he gets to shake hands with a mayor when he goes to a play.

Spent most of yesterday out of doors. It was a gorgeous day, only slightly warmer than I prefer. Went to two art fairs in the afternoon, on Ellsworth and on Walnut. They are close together so we walked to both.
This Pittsburgh monster was walking around the Ellsworth fair. I went up and told it I had seen it at Schenley Plaza when I went with Charna to the opening festivities. The woman with the "monster" said, Oh no, I only saw the costume. This was her gallery assistant. Things never change. When I was photographing for art galleries in Chicago I often marveled at the terrible jobs the assistants were willing to do, for next to no pay, I’m sure. After all, it’s a glamor job.

In the evening we went to the zoo. I marvel at the fantastic institutions here in Pittsburgh. The zoo ranks very high. Many of the animals are more active at dusk, and it was fun to see them.
The tiger was making some amazingly spooky noises. He’s recently become a father and probably wants to do it all over again. The evening ended all too soon, but as we were walking out, we came upon two very rare animals, griffins.
At one time there were eight of these around the zoo–bases holding up lamps.

Having been a flatlander for most of my life, Chicago having only small man-made hills and overpasses, I am constantly amazed at the terrain here in Pittsburgh. I’ve been told that all of these hills, valleys, ravines, whatever you want to call them, were created by erosion. In other words, it all began with a high plateau and wind and water created the low points. I am particularly fascinated with the bridges and tunnels men have created to overcome the changes in terrain. One of my favorite structures is this stone arch double bridge. On the right is a railroad bridge; on  the left  is Lincoln Avenue, which passes under the railroad bridge. Just down the road is another spectacular bridge: Larimer Avenue. Both bridges cross a valley traversed by Washington Blvd. Neither street seems very heavily traveled today, but they are the only way to get across the valley for a distance of several miles. I finally drove over both bridges, but they are much more spectacular looking from below.