Passing restaurants, bars and businesses bearing names of Ukrainian and Polish origin, each looking hazy as if draped with a light, gray veil, behind them a long rusty steel mill by desolate railroad tracks, this is Pittsburgh. The sun always seems to disappear entering Pittsburgh. I wanted so much to take photos of the melancholic buildings and lonely landscapes we saw but to stop, aim and shoot would ruin the poetry of the drive and I didn't want even the briefest pause. I was enjoying the rhythm of the scenery: Naked trees, falling buildings, fading row houses scattered on distant hilltops. A photo would be insignificant, it would be out of context. To appreciate, one needs to see it all at once.