If you drive through the corner of Quincy Avenue and University Boulevard with any regularity, you probably clocked that something was different last summer. The tall bronze piece that had anchored that corner for years was gone. In its place: three smaller, warmer-toned sculptures that hadn't been there before. Most people who noticed assumed a private owner had swapped out a piece on their own property, or that the city had simply upgraded its landscaping budget. Neither is true. What actually happened is a lot more interesting, and it says something about how Cherry Hills Village decides what art you get to look at.
Windsong III Is Gone. Here's What Took Its Place.
The piece that used to occupy the southeast corner of Quincy and University was Windsong III. City records show it came down on July 24, 2025. About five weeks later, on August 27, 2025 at 10 a.m., a new trio of sculptures went up in its place: Honey in Sunlight, Love Beacon, and Warm Fuzzy, works by artists Pard Morrison and Jodie Roth Cooper. The Cherry Hills Village Art Commission signed off on the swap, City Council approved the agreement at its July 15, 2025 meeting, and the concrete bases for the new pieces were poured in advance so installation day went quickly.
None of this happened because a resident complained about the old sculpture or because the city ran out of maintenance budget. It happened because that corner was never meant to hold the same piece forever. It's part of a program most residents drive past without knowing exists.
This Corner Was Never Meant to Be Permanent
The Cherry Hills Village Art Commission, known around City Hall as CHVAC, was created by City Council in 2011 to advise on selecting, placing, and maintaining art in public places. One of its ongoing responsibilities is a sculpture-on-loan program, and the Quincy and University corner is its flagship spot. Under the current arrangement, a piece goes up, stays for roughly a year and a half to two years, and comes down to make room for something new. The loan installed in 2025 is scheduled to remain through 2026, with the Commission selecting and installing a replacement in 2027. Loan periods typically begin and end in July, which means the corner is due for another swap on roughly the same summer schedule that just played out.
That detail matters if you like the current pieces. Honey in Sunlight, Love Beacon, and Warm Fuzzy are not a permanent addition to the neighborhood. They're a temporary exhibit at one of the busiest intersections in the Village, and the clock on their stay is already running.
Why That Corner Rotates and John Meade Park Doesn't
Here's the part that explains everything else. CHVAC's day-to-day operating budget is small. As of 2025, the Commission's annual budget sits at $25,000, which covers things like plaques, concrete pads, and installation logistics for loaned work. That's enough to keep the corner rotation going, but nowhere near enough to buy a piece outright and keep it forever.
Permanent acquisitions work on a completely different track. In 2023, the Commission's budget jumped to $136,000, and the reason was the addition of sculptures to John Meade Park. That kind of spending doesn't come out of the regular operating line. It comes from a separate Art Donation account that accumulates over time, plus dedicated fundraising campaigns. When the Commission installed Joe Norman's Resilience Series in John Meade Park on December 7, 2023, it ran alongside a donor recognition effort with a fundraising cutoff of May 1, 2024, and roughly 50 donors ended up named on the resulting plaque.
That's the mechanism. Loaned sculpture is cheap, flexible, and temporary because the operating budget can only support borrowing. Permanent sculpture is expensive and rare because it requires the community to actually pay for it, piece by piece, donor by donor. The corner at Quincy and University rotates because that's what a $25,000 annual budget buys you. John Meade Park holds onto its pieces because someone wrote a check.
The Permanent Collection, If You're Keeping Score
While the corner piece comes and goes, the Village has quietly built up a small but genuinely fixed collection scattered across its civic properties. If you've ever wondered what that bronze horse is outside the police station, or what the beaver statue at Dahlia Hollow Park is about, here's the rundown:
| Sculpture | Artist | Location |
|---|---|---|
| Charlo (bronze horse) | Deborah Butterfield | Joint Public Safety Facility, 2460 E. Quincy Ave. |
| Rubric Series Number 6 | Emmett Culligan | Joint Public Safety Facility, 2460 E. Quincy Ave. |
| Gusto | Gilberto Romero | Outside City Hall |
| Really | Wayne Salge | Southwest corner, E. Quincy Ave. and Meade Lane |
| Untitled | Robert Mangold | Quincy Farm |
| Chainsaw (beaver) | Jesse Horton | Dahlia Hollow Park |
| Resilience Series | Joe Norman | John Meade Park, installed December 7, 2023 |
| Girl | Yoshitomo Saito | Clarkson St. and Quincy Ave. |
A couple of these are worth a closer look in person, not just because they're well made, but because of where they sit. Charlo, the Butterfield horse, has a following of its own among people who walk that stretch of Quincy regularly. And the Resilience Series in John Meade Park is worth visiting for what it represents as much as what it looks like. It's the rare piece here that the city actually bought and intends to keep, rather than one it's holding onto for a couple of seasons before someone comes to take it back.
What to Watch For Next
If you liked the old Windsong III, you had roughly two years with it before the rotation moved on. If you like Honey in Sunlight, Love Beacon, and Warm Fuzzy, the same clock is already ticking. The current loan runs through 2026, and given that the Commission's swaps tend to land in July, the next changeover at Quincy and University is realistically a mid-2027 event. Between now and then, the smart move is just to actually look at what's there. It's not going to stay.
The bigger takeaway isn't really about sculpture. It's about how much of what feels permanent in a place like Cherry Hills Village is actually the product of a small group of people making budget-constrained decisions on your behalf, one loan agreement at a time. The corner you drive past every day changes because a $25,000 line item says it can. The park bench you sit on stays because somebody's name is on a plaque. Once you know the difference, you start noticing which is which everywhere in the Village.
If you're the type of resident who notices when a sculpture disappears from a corner you drive past twice a day, you're probably the type who notices a lot about this place that doesn't make it into the county records or the market reports. That kind of local read is exactly what Niki Collier brings to conversations about Cherry Hills Village, whether you're weighing a move, sizing up a listing, or just trying to figure out who to call when you finally want a professional opinion on your own patch of the Village. Say hello next time you're ready to talk.
