Hiking into the Morning Sun — Image by kenne
Hiking Into The Morning Sun Leave a comment
The desert does not hurry us.
Red-tailed Hawk Over Tucson Skies 3 comments
Red-tailed Hawk Over Tucson Skies — Image by kenne
Morning lifts on quiet thermals,
and there you are—
a single intention
written against the light.
Not striving, not hurried—
just the slow agreement
between feather and wind.
If I could learn anything today,
let it be this:
how to trust what carries me.
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Sonoran Blue Sky Leave a comment
Sonoran Blue Sky — Image by kenne
The sky lays itself down
across the mountains
like a second world—
blue poured into stone.
No sermon here,
just light telling rock
what it already knows.
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Wild Senna Leave a comment
Wild Senna On the Slope Behind Our House — Image by kenne
Sunlit blossoms nod,
each one a small declaration:
I am here, I bloom.
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Brown Pelican Leave a comment
Brown Pelican Taking Off — Image by kenne
There’s a hard-earned lift in him—
not the easy grace of a gull.
He runs the length of the lake to get free,
one wing touches into a broken rhythm.
That last touch, that trailing wing—
that’s the past reaching up, then letting go.
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Raseate Skimmer Dragonfly 1 comment
Raseate Skimmer Dragonfly — Image by kenne
In motion, it measures motion—
wingbeats, shadows, the slight wrongness
of something closing in.
Eyes like a net of light
cast in all directions.
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Blue-eyed Darter Leave a comment
Blue-eyed Darner at Sweetwater Wetlands — Image by kennne
Where reeds bow in wind,
your brief, shining pilgrimage
outlives ancient song.
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Shore Along The Outerbanks Leave a comment
Shore Along the Outerbanks — Image by kenne
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Bee On Lemmon Blossoms 2 comments
Honey Bee on Lemon Blossoms — Image by kenne
The lemon tree breathes light,
each blossom a small lantern,
and the bee moves among them
like a keeper of secrets.
What it takes, it gives—
though not to me, not directly.
Still, I stand in the fragrance
feeling included
in a mystery I do not own.
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A Row Of Mailboxes 3 comments
Mailboxes in a Small New Mexico Town — Image by kenne
Each box is a story painted over rust—
names fading, but never gone.
Abuela still checks hers at sunrise,
like the sun might bring a letter from yesterday.
We are a people of waiting,
of holding onto envelopes like prayers,
addressed to hope.
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Shadows On The Floor 2 comments
— kenne
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McCaws In The Amazon 2 comments
McCaws In The Amazon — Image by kenne
In the vast green breath of the Amazon,
three macaw travel together—
not by chance, but by trust.
The universe does not send
companions without reason.
It teaches us, through them,
how to journey without fear.
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Anna’s Hummingbird 2 comments
Anna’s Hummingbird — Image by kenne
tiny green body,
she hovers where stories live—
between what we say
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He’s Back Again 1 comment
Gila Woodpecker on the Patio Tree — Image by kenne
there he is again—
clinging sideways to the tree
like a bad decision
that won’t let go.
tap-tap-tap—
no rhythm, no apology.
and I laugh,
because that’s life, isn’t it?
just you
and your stubborn little beak
against something harder.
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Where Were You 4 comments
Image and Poem by kenne
