McDonald, Tuesday.
Bowman, Friday.
Upper Quartz, Friday.
Upper Quartz, this morning.
Lower Quartz, this morning.
Bowman, noon today.
I dream of a hard and brutal mysticism in which the naked self merges with a non-human world and yet somehow survives still intact, individual, separate. Paradox and bedrock.
McDonald, Tuesday.
Bowman, Friday.
Upper Quartz, Friday.
Upper Quartz, this morning.
Lower Quartz, this morning.
Bowman, noon today.
and you don’t believe in god… no problem…but just looking.Poete laureate man…
Beautiful shots, thanks! Makes me miss my time living over in the Rockies.
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