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Sunday morning, cold in boulder, heading down the creek path to see the world. A frozen bubbling is my first muse. That incredible team of sculptors – wind, water, wave, cold. Making dollops, bubbles on the twigs and reaching out to form a shelf at the edge of the creek. Onwards down the path, the cat-tail and those magical foothills of Colorado. The Mountains rise up from the flat land, cool in their steep yet tree covered poise. A glimpse here and there of the Harsh Peaks beyond, snow and rock is all they hold.


what a fascinating world that ice and water…


the landscape and interaction with humanity. It seems so much flatter than that frigid waste of ice creation.

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