An anchor bolt at the gazebo at Yellowhouse Canyon. The deck under the gazebo is finished, the Adirondack chairs are assembled - and for the first time, I wrote a journal entry from the canyon.
One of my earliest memories is of my parents staying up late to process slides in the kitchen. I can still remember the first photograph I took - of a rock, with a mountain in the background. In college, I was almost positive I was going to be the next Ansel Adams.
All of which has led me here.
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