The Newtown Pentacle

Altissima quaeque flumina minimo sono labi

Something wicked that way scuttled

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Thursday

– photo by Mitch Waxman

This post carries shots from the end of a medium length walk, on a quite warm day, that began in the hills of the Borough of Millvale, then followed the Allegheny River along a waterfront trail, and deposited my stinking pre-corpse onto the ‘Three Rivers Heritage Trail’ here in Pittsburgh.

Loathsome, your humble narrator was. A sweaty mess by this stage of the day, the dripping eidolon of dissolution, as well as a cautionary tale told to the young. Blech!

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Landmark, that’s the 16th street David McCullough Bridge, nearby the former Heinz factory on Pittsburgh’s ‘North Side.’

The horror… ‘swamp ass’ was driving me crazy.

‘Swamp Ass’ is when you’ve been ‘shvitzing’ so heavily that your underclothes start becoming a burden, and bunching up. That’s the road to a blister, buddy!

Upon arriving back at HQ, I discovered that my T-Shirt was thoroughly soaked, and had to weigh about three pounds, with all that absorbed sweat in it. Phlegh!

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Age, and the deprivations to the physical plant which it induces, are very much present with me on these scuttles.

I’ve had to learn to work around my ‘diminishing capacity,’ and especially so after the busted ankle incident. A lot of thought goes to the ‘carry’ inside the camera bag these days, wherein a zoom lens I refer to as ‘the brick’ is often found. The backpack, and I’ve actually gotten on a scale at a doctor’s office with and without it, weighs just under thirty pounds.

Add in the terrified reaction people have when they see me coming.

Old ladies clutch at their purses, children cry, dogs howl, birds fall dead out of the sky, flowers close up their blossoms like it’s night time as I near. I’m also likely the worst person who’s ever been born, just ask anyone, especially those whom I consider friends. They’ll tell you.

Why do I ever leave the house, or try to interact with people? Literally, everybody hates me, on sight.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

That’s the Veterans Bridge, above.

Luckily, I found a shaded spot which offered concrete blocks to sit upon. Since the concrete was shaded, it was endo rather than exothermic, and I planted my horrific form atop it, allowing my body heat to bleed out, through the ass, and into the block.

Use your environment – and your ass – to your advantage!

– photo by Mitch Waxman

Finally, ‘civilization.’

Simple plan from this spot, I’d walk across the river on one of those ‘Three Sisters’ bridges – pictured above – and then it would be less than a half mile’s worth of scuttling to get to a T Light Rail station, which would carry me back home to Moe the Dog and Our Lady of the Pentacle.

They still seem to like me.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

My timing could not have been better… made it home just before that sky pictured above exploded with lightning, and wind, and storm.

Back tomorrow with something different – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.


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In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.

Written by Mitch Waxman

September 10, 2026 at 11:00 am

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