Sunday morning when I opened the blinds in our bedroom and looked out over the back yard, this is what I saw:
Joel (10) had created the masterpiece the day before and just waited patiently for us to notice it (you can only make out the words from an upstairs window . . . or airplane). In his words, he was "continuing the tradition" since last year at one point after it snowed, he had written (marched?) "Dad Rocks!" in the common area in front of our houses.