Monday bookends

The middle of my Monday can be summed up thusly:

F
Three letters follow.
Do the spelling.

Now that that's out of the way, let me just say the beginning and end, for a Monday, were pretty darned good.

Not in order of importance: First, I broke my rule and ran for public transit and made it morning and evening. Thank you to the driver of the morning train, who waited. Thanks to luck for letting me make the evening train.

Second, a very light blanket of fog greeted the dog and I this morning on our walk, offering a lovely backdrop to the black bones of bare trees in my neighborhood and its park. It was so beautifully quiet, just the clicking of Twist's nails on the pavement. I love the starkness and stillness of mornings like these; the whole is made even more beautiful by the last golden leaves still hanging and the warm greens of pines and hemlocks.

Seedpods, dried goldenrod, moss on logs and water dripping from eaves and over stones. I'm such a crank that none of those are nearly enough to carry me through the winter. For one day, though, they will more than do and thanks to whoever is in charge of creating the scenery that makes me happy.

The picture is of a creation that's totally artificial: The Christmas tree in the street level lobby of the really lovely Fairmont Pittsburgh hotel, taken on the way to a good Monday bookend. The hotel has really pretty public spaces, including a museum-quality display of medicine bottles, porcelain doll heads and other early 20th century detritus unearthed during construction.