All of these designs were created by a man named Simon Beck in the town of Les Arcs in the French Alps, using only a pair of snowshoes and an orienteering compass.
All of these designs were created by a man named Simon Beck in the town of Les Arcs in the French Alps, using only a pair of snowshoes and an orienteering compass.
This entry was posted on Thursday, December 20th, 2012 at 6:41 pm and is filed under simple pleasures. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Don’t carry a grudge. While you’re carrying the grudge the other guy’s out dancing. —Buddy Hackett
I don’t have a big ego. I’m way too cool for that.
Home sweet home
Bob's sister Hannah
Bob's sister Ada
Bob's brother Otto
Bob's sister Eve
Bob's sister Nan
A baby picture of Bob and his siblings (clockwise from upper left: Otto, Eve, Hannah, Ada, Bob, and Nan)
Bob's childhood home
Bob's mom and dad
Bob in his youth
Bob's cousin Alphonse
Bob's Uncle Ralph and Aunt Edna
Bob's cousin Archibald
Bob's stepbrother Herbie (who really needs to quit smoking)
Bob's cousin Chester
Bob's Great Uncle Norbert and Great Aunt Phyllis
Bob's cousin Saffron (who will do anything for a drink)
Bob's sister-in-law Sybil
Bob's cousin Thorndike
Bob's brother-in-law Vinnie
Bob's cousin Orville, who loves the Green Bay Packers
Bob's nieces Lulu and Bitsy, the biker chicks
Bob's stepsister Eloise, with the twins, Rudy and Trudy
Bob's Uncle Henry and Aunt Rowena
Bob's niece Esmerelda (who likes to live dangerously)
Bob's Great Uncle Arthur up in Saskatchewan
Bob's cousin Louie, the grackle of grumpiness
Miss Screech, Bob's journalism teacher
Bob's nephew Winthrop, who loves sports
Bob's Uncle Seymour and Aunt Bernice
Bob's second cousin Schlomo in Brooklyn
Bob's nephew Baxter
Bob's cousin Darrell
Bob's sister-in-law Delphine, who volunteers at the animal shelter
Percy the Pickpocket, Bob's third cousin once removed (the relative no one likes to talk about... every family has one)
The Bluebird of Happiness™ (no relation to Bob)
A pair of boobies (also no relation to Bob, but included for readers who desire titillation)
Bluebird Bitter™, the beer they named for Bob
How beautiful…and unusual. I hate the cold. I can’t imagine spending ten hours in the cold to create something that will be blown away. But at least he can photograph it.
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Just thinking about what motivates a guy to essentially throw away so much time and energy for the temporary gratification of viewing geometric patterns. It’s like the folks building humongous sand castles at beaches. Discovered it’s best to not stand too close downwind of them. OK, time to stop thinking on this. He’s a nut job. Accept it and forget it.
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