These are for you, John. Now you can see the openness into which I yelled for the lost dog to return.
Yamnuska, before he became lost. Too many good smells, sooo little free-time. |
Looking East at one of the 3 sisters. |
Looking West up the Bow River tributary |
Dawn comes late in Canmore. It's about 9am. |
The sky may not be big, but it's glorious here. |
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