Lit up floats lined the streets created ahs from the crowds.
The Festival of Lights celebrates the holidays with floats, marching bands and a very cold night parade. I enjoyed watching these guys boggie on by.
These gentle giants worked up a sweat just before I took this shot. They participated in the Parade of Lights in Downtown Denver. As always the Parade was well attended despite the bitter cold and wind on Saturday night.
Of course while these guys were sweating, I on the other hand was chilled to the bone.
Maybe next time I should volunteer to pull a carriage around town. At least then I’d stay warm!
One man’s junk is another man’s art.
That’s not exactly the saying, but it’s close enough for me. While walking by the Denver Art Museum I noticed the trash dumpster was covered in stickers that read, “Denver Art Museum.”
I found it amusing.
It’s a phrase seldom heard anymore, but I can remember my Mother saying it on more than one occasion. Burning the Midnight Oil applies to so many of us who aren’t able to separate work from private time. Our lives seem to have blended the two functions until they cannot be distinguished from each other.
Fog transforms light into delightful variations. Instead of going up to the hills for first light, I headed for the RTD station. It turned out to be a good thing, the purple haze made for some interesting compositions.
I like purple.
Up on Conifer mountain there is a fox family who come to visit. They trot up on the deck and watch us as we socialize. They won’t let us approach them, but they love to hang around.
No complaints here, I couldn’t have asked for a better pose!
What could be more maddening then hitting it straight on directly at the pin, watching it sail through the air with succinct precision only to land just short of the green?
Oh like about a million things. How about hitting it into the rough never to be found again? Worse yet how about taking out an adjacent picture window or getting stuck on the back nine in a hail storm?
It’s all relative.
Is there truth to the statement, “a bad day at golf is better than a good day at the office?” I keep having to test that theory. It’s so hard to decide.
This isn’t a picture of my son. It’s a picture of my son’s son. They look alike.
Bookends, before and after. DNA is cool like that, nature repeating itself.
Yes, he’s a Rocky Fan, can you see him cheering?
Happy Birthday Son. I love you!
P.S. Thanks for the Grandson!