Moments of Lovely

Pittsburgh may have the friendliest people in the U.S. I’m not joking, and yes, I have considered the South as well. Granted, I only spent a brief time in Pittsburgh this week, visiting one of my best friends from Ball State, but people in the city have that genuine Midwestern attitude (even though they’ll swear they are East Coast, NOT Midwest) with none of that large city “bother-me-not” mentality (probably because they are not a big city). Add to that the hilly landscape and industrious mind-set, and of course Wendy (wink, wink), and you’ve got a great little city. My visit there was a mix of relaxing, shopping, eating, and exploring Pittsburgh’s culture.

Duquesne Incline

There’s much about which I could write here. Pamela’s pancakes, the Andy Warhol museum, riding the Duquesne Incline… But, of everything, Phipps Conservatory left me nearly speechless. I could rave endlessly about the beauty, expanse, and outright whimsy of Phipps. It felt so magical, weaving in and out of seemingly limitless rooms of foliage and flowers, butterflies and glass art. I’m not even crazy about flowers the way my mom is, but I just couldn’t help but feel swept away. Of course, Wendy and I couldn’t resist the endless photo opportunities, either, and we posed in every little nook, amid cascading vines, on quaint bridges, and beside waterfalls. We stayed for a good part of Thursday afternoon, basking in the greenness and the wafting sweet scents.

Phipps Conservatory

When I look back on it, though, all of Thursday was rather enchanting. The whimsy of Phipps seemed to trickle on into the night. Wendy, Autumn, and I got all done up for a girls’ night out, complete with tapas and sangria at Ibiza. While dinner was lovely, and we had a nice time out on Carson Street, it was later that night (actually, make that Friday morning), when our evening took an unexpected twist. At about 3 a.m., Wendy, Autumn, and I found ourselves at an observation point at Mt. Washington, looking out over downtown Pittsburgh, all lit up against the black sky. Add to this the fact that I was dancing barefoot, with a sweet young Pennsylvania guy to classic jazz (streaming from his front shirt pocket where my phone, cued up to Pandora radio, was conveniently set), pausing every so often to absorb the cityscape before us. I love these kinds of unexpected moments--when Romance (and romance) just slips in, as though it were waiting in the wings all along. And even as the night ends, and everyone goes their separate ways, that unexpected moment of lovely still lingers in the early morning air.

Downtown Pittsburgh, 3 a.m. (Above)

One of Pitt's many yellow bridges

Maybe it’s the inspiration of Phipps's never-ending mazes of foliage, or the barefoot twirling overlooking night-time Pittsburgh, but I found my love for Chicago re-ignited as well. I had butterflies in my stomach, and lost all semblance of patience when my flight home began its descent over Chicago late Saturday afternoon. I had had my eyes closed, the airplane window “shade” pulled down, listening to my headphones. But as soon as I felt those lilts indicating that the plane was slowly losing altitude, my eyes popped wide open, I lifted the window shade, and I sat there with my foot bouncing, like a little kid, eagerly awaiting our landing at Midway.

It always feels so warm and fuzzy to return to the broad shoulders of Chi-town. Chicago, my love, I missed you! There's no place like home.