Sometimes you can go home again.
The construction is done. The old bridge is gonzo, and the pedestrian walkway curving along the side of the new roadbed is complete. The construction site is no more: landscaped grass and lombardy poplars (or something like them) have taken its place. Edmonton’s most-recent snowfall is mostly melted and although …
An old standard, personalized.
Art or craft?
A dam, a bridge, and a whole whack of water. In the desert.
Like love, the path to peace never did run smooth. Or straight.
It really does look like a harp.