Stampscapes® Sample Thumbnail Gallery: Page II

The following images are small thumbnail images of larger, more detailed sample art work. If you would like to see the larger image simply click on the small thumbnail image. The file size of each sample is approximately 19K. Each sample was created using only Stampscapes® stamps.

The Arctic waters were as cold as the ancient starlight which now bathed the icy water's thrust. The rocks remained solemn.

Propelled by nature's clarion call, the flock resolutely ignored the sanctuary of cool, clear water. Ripples graced the water surface, punctuating the pregnant stillness of the moment.

In the shadow of the everlasting granite hills the stoic flyfisher spent quiet moments of his fleeting existence...time well spent. Suddenly the silence was shattered. The battle was met, the scaly beast fought well, creating a cacophony to match the waterfall's cascade-roar.

I paused, the rough oar urging soft wet circles in the frame of the spiny branches. Nature's spotlight framing the blue silence of our evenings journey. Ripples from the oar touched not only water, but my very soul.

The solitude gripped us like a vise, casting a spell of silence over the valley. A sense of our own insignificance was imparted by the grandeur of the statuesque trees. Rocks, granite and bark formed a silent seal, enveloping us within. Encased within the silence, we beheld the towering green of the forest haloed by the drench of a topaz sunset.

Despite the rumors of a Devil-Fish, Pedro and Butau fished in the lagoon every night.

Wisps of brine kissed the solitary figure as gravity pulled his body earthward. His fear discarded. Seeking the elements, cool and sure like a knife, his body ready to know the fresh bite of the water.
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	The Arctic waters were as cold as the ancient starlight which now bathed the icy water's thrust. The rocks remained solemn.
	Propelled by nature's clarion call, the flock resolutely ignored the sanctuary of cool, clear water. Ripples graced the water surface, punctuating the pregnant stillness of the moment.
	In the shadow of the everlasting granite hills the stoic flyfisher spent quiet moments of his fleeting existence...time well spent. Suddenly the silence was shattered. The battle was met, the scaly beast fought well, creating a cacophony to match the waterfall's cascade-roar.
	I paused, the rough oar urging soft wet circles in the frame of the spiny branches. Nature's spotlight framing the blue silence of our evenings journey. Ripples from the oar touched not only water, but my very soul.
	The solitude gripped us like a vise, casting a spell of silence over the valley. A sense of our own insignificance was imparted by the grandeur of the statuesque trees. Rocks, granite and bark formed a silent seal, enveloping us within. Encased within the silence, we beheld the towering green of the forest haloed by the drench of a topaz sunset.
	Despite the rumors of a Devil-Fish, Pedro and Butau fished in the lagoon every night.
	Wisps of brine kissed the solitary figure as gravity pulled his body earthward. His fear discarded. Seeking the elements, cool and sure like a knife, his body ready to know the fresh bite of the water.