I took my son for a brief cruise around the artworks in the St. Louis Art Museum this afternoon.

Something we like to do from time to time and with most other folks watching the Super Bowl, it was likely to be a quiet afternoon in the museum.

And so it was. The museum is undergoing remodeling, so things were not where they usually are. This room used to be full of pre-Columbian statues and pottery. No longer.Maybe I have a slightly off-center way of looking at things, but I find deserted rooms such as these fascinating. What was is no more and what will be, I have no idea. A space full of both memories and promise.

We wandered around and I found myself crossing paths repeatedly with a lonely looking young woman. It took me back to the days when I, as a young man, wandered equally lonely through the galleries in London. I am so glad I am no longer young.

Out front, the snow on Art Hill was melting into a delightful mottled pattern on the dead, brown, grass. The lake was mostly frozen, and I was surprised to see that the fountains were still in operation. I would have thought they would have stopped them in this cold weather; most others around St. Louis do indeed shut down for the season.There were not many people out on the hill either. It was very damp and sodden. But a father and son were having a lot of fun with a radio controlled glider.

The father was sending it soaring up high where it caught the low afternoon sun against a backdrop of the moon in a blue sky. The youngster was more tentative, keeping it low to the ground, but still controlling it well. I could not think of a better way to enjoy a Sunday afternoon.

Except for ours.