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.|