Photographed foggy morning September 16th. How fog affects the image’s feel. A painterly effect.
In response to Michelle W. Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Grid.”
shot with iPhone this evening specifically for the challenge.
JJBegonias post of Marian Burros Plum Torte has inspired many to bake one.
My friend Roberta made a couple and gave me one she baked but unfortunately Steve and I ate it without thinking about photographing it,
I made one for my friend Josie’s parents and then her sister Carol made one and Josie sent me a photo of it on the phone. Looks like they paired it with a cup of coffee. Mmmm.
Then here is the one I made
(Across street from Giant Eagle parking lot- Shadyside. From the archives)
You know how I’m always looking for signs.
And there it was at the Auto Glass Store.
Driving from school, stopped at the red light.
Written on the portable sign.
At least I think it’s Ken. Without clothes. Not sure of the message or meaning.
I’ve see plenty of stuffed plush on garbage truck fronts, especially in New York City.
Maybe I should rethink this post and title it Wordless Wednesday.
I love how some bloggers are so consistent- Six Word Saturday, Silent Sunday, Wordless Wednesday, TBT and the dependable Weekly Photo Challenge on Friday and so on.
But sometimes when I’m stopped at a red light I see something I can photograph in a blink. No rhyme or reason. It is just there.
You can add the caption
Almost all of our snow has disappeared this week but here’s my photo from Mt.Washington, a block from Grandview where I turned from the Duquesne Incline, Feb 26, 2015.
Here is the link to the Oct. 8, 1907 image I found at and got permission to show on the blog to compare the two views.
Photo Credit- Pittsburgh City Photographer Collection, 1901-2002, AIS.1971.05, Archives Service Center, University of Pittsburgh. Thanks to the Media Curator, Miriam, for granting permission.
First posted in February 2010 and again in 2013. Thanks Timons Esaias Guest Poet
Tim’s Poem Came to Mind as I Admired the Concrete First Time in Two Weeks – Photographed Feb 2010
By Their Sidewalks You Will Know Them
Originally there were eleven Commandments
Moses, perhaps confused by the unfamiliar
snow, ice, and sidewalk,
botched one, and left it out.
But Buddha said that though Life is Pain,
falling on ice is gratuitous pain
and those who cause it, by neglect,
should never escape the Wheel of Rebirth;
and Lao-Tzu agreed, for those who will not
clear the path will never find the Way.
Zoroaster, in the endless war of light
against ice, demanded diligence;
claimed that those who surrender
the public way to the Enemy
have empty souls,
can scarcely be regarded as human.
The Prophet, regarding sidewalks and snow,
is silent; but his sura
Sand Drifting Against the Caravanserai Gate
is thought to apply. The condemnation there
is brutal and eternal.
Plato counted safe sidewalks as fundamental
to the ideal Republic, noting that those remiss
in this clear duty lacked all character;
and his pupil – perceptive, immortal Aristotle-
further declared, famously, that
lack of character
Timons Esaias is a writer and poet living in Pittsburgh. His short stories, ranging from literary to genre, have been published in fourteen languages. He has had over a hundred poems in print, including Spanish, Swedish and Chinese translations, in such markets as 5AM, Bathtub Gin, Main Street Rag, Willard & Maple, Elysian Fields Quarterly: The Literary Journal of Baseball and many others. He has also been a finalist for the British Science Fiction Award, and won the Asimov’s Readers Award. His poetry chapbook, The Influence of Pigeons on Architecture, sold out two editions. He is Adjunct Faculty at Seton Hill University, in the Writing Popular Fiction M.F.A. Program. This poem was originally published in hotmetalpoets.com when it existed.
This entry was posted on February 19, 2010. It was filed under poetry, Things in the Snow and was tagged with city scene, HIghland Park, photo of the day, photography, Pittsburgh, Poem, poet, poetry, shovel, sidewalk, snow, Timons Esaias, urban scene, winter scene.
Too deep for me.
February 19, 2010 at 7:07 am Edit
Makes me happy that our sidewalks are clear and clean – thanks to Mike!! I couldn’t handle all those punishments! Seems like an almost normal day today!! Thanks for starting it with something special!!! Did Bill mean the snow was too deep – or the poem??!! Either way, I agree! My mind is mush (like this snow will soon be) — been in the house too long!!!
February 19, 2010 at 8:42 am Edit
All tis is great Ruth. It is like your photos and words are a diary of living through these snowy days.
February 19, 2010 at 9:12 am Edit
Too wonderful for … words?? :-) Changes my attitude on shoveling, altho I am already somewhat aware that I smile and feel satisfaction when I get to the concrete! A bit anxious now, tho, about the snow still on the bushes, bending branches low over the sidewalk leading to my caravanserai gate ……! :-)
February 19, 2010 at 9:52 am Edit
There is a special place in hell
where, frozen in ice, only his rear
exposed to Satan’s teeth, he’ll dwell
whose sidewalk’s untouched while his driveway’s clear.
February 19, 2010 at 10:50 am Edit
that is one great photo
February 19, 2010 at 4:27 pm Edit
I know the snow is a pain, but it is beautiful. I enjoy the pic very much.
Here is Long Tail the feral cat in the garage. You may know the story about Ann next door who was in her nineties and passed and we caught two of the four young cats she’d collected and had them neutered and vaccinated and released. How they survive the sub zero temps is astounding. Steve feeds them and made a shelter.
East Liberty, Larimer Avenue.
The empty school sits behind the twin-spired church, the one that’s closed.
I saw the architecture through the snow-
from the lot where I was parking.