In honor of the Steelers’ first game of the season against the cheating Patriots (y’all can keep Antonio Brown–have a stellar time with that drama snowball), here are some snazzy shots of one of the more underrated cities in America.
Before moving here, I imagined soot-streaked steel mills belching smoke into a gray sky. Of course, for the past month and a half, oppressively fluffy, charcoal-gray clouds have only invaded the skies a total of two times.
The city is vibrant, alive, a mix of old and über modern springing up with the roseate morning sunlights reflected on the cold glass panes and wandering rivers with their skeletal arching bridges. Sunsets are just as marvelous, but the city stays awake, especially on the weekend in the Downtown and South Side.
Green, green, emerald green. Five minutes out of the high rises and river confluence, it’s as if a city doesn’t exist. The hills, at the right time in the morning, are reminiscent of the Smoky Mountains (ok, my imagination is also overactive). Running, feet beating off the dirt path, deer and groundhogs and birds chirping and turtles eyeballing as you run by, getting purposefully lost in the crisp air…all fifteen minutes at most from downtown. It’s fabulous.
Pittsburgh is perfect. Hopefully our football team is, too. Otherwise, you can find me here^ after our loss tomorrow.
**Update: The Steelers look like they forgot how to play football; however, running the city was still extraordinarily beautiful. At least we have that going for us.
Where is your favorite place?