And It Snowed, Too.

A blizzard is never a good thing for delicately balanced rock sculptures.  Add snow and 50 mile an hour wind gusts, and you get a disaster.  Though I enjoyed watching the snow stream horizontally by my window, I knew there would be a long period of re-construction in my future.  The storm departed this area leaving eleven inches of snow with even deeper drifts.
My forecast proved correct when I went past the Wynnewood train station.  Both the sculptures were down.  A nice person had put some of the rocks from the smaller sculpture against the wood backdrop of its location.  I re-built the sculpture from the rocks that were there.  It's a temporary one till the snow melts and I can find the rest of the rocks that constitute this sculpture.
The large sculpture at the Wynnewood Station is the one I like the most.  I kicked the snow with my feet and dug with my bare hands to find the rocks.  Since the previous sculpture was not as big a "Wow" as it had been in the past, I made a greater effort to produce a more imaginative piece.  I like it better, and it did get a positive comment from the AMTRAK engineer whose train had stopped for passengers while I was working.
I was surprised to find the sculpture at The Hamper Shop was totally obliterated.  Actually, I was pleasantly surprised, as I had never really liked that sculpture.  Its saving feature was its durability.  I re-built it into something that has more pizazz, but will need work to get greater stability.  Two ladies leaving The Hamper Shop stopped to tell me how much they enjoy the sculpture.  It's always nice to get that positive re-enforcement.  I usually go about thinking that few people even realize these sculptures exist.

I've included a photo of the snowbank at the Gin Za Japanese restaurant.  Somewhere under that pile of snow there may or may not exist a rock sculpture.  It's another example of Schrodinger's theory about the cat in the box.  I'm thinking it's still alive.  (The sculpture and the cat.)