Carpenter Bee In A Sacred Datura Blossom — Image by kenne
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot
Archive for the ‘Bees’ Category
Carpenter Bee Leave a comment
Looking Back To Early Spring Leave a comment
Bee and Crab Spider (Photo Bomber) on Brittlebush Blossoms — Image by kenne
Don’t call me a photo bomber
I was here before the bee flew
into the field of view.
— kenne
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Nature Doing Its Thing 3 comments
Nature Doing Its Thing — Bee On Prickly Pear Cactus Image by kenne
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Desert Chicory Leave a comment
Two Bees On Desert Chicory — HDR Image by kenne
“Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength
that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the
repeated refrains of nature — the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.”
― Rachel Carson
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Bee On Fairy Duster Wildflower Leave a comment
Bee On Fairy Duster Wildflower (July 16, 2021) — Image by kenne
The draft of this posting was done in late July before we went on our August road trip.
However, many photos later, just today, I noticed this unpublished draft —
Better late than never.
— kenne
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Bee On Goldeneye Leave a comment
Bee On Goldeneye — Image by kenne
“We are plants which—
whether we like to admit it to ouselves or not—
must with our roots rise out of the earth
in order to bloom in the ether and to bear fruit.”
— from Works by Johann Peter Hebel
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Bee On Fairy Duster Flower Leave a comment
Bee On Fairy Duster Flower — Image by kenne
cycles of nature
the depth of winter passes
appearing each spring
— kenne
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Shifting Gears Leave a comment
Bee On Desert Chicory (Santa Catalina Mountains) — Image by kenne
You should always know
when you’re shifting gears
in life.
You should leave your era,
it should never leave you.
— Leontyne Price
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Bee On Whitestem Blazingstar Wildflower Leave a comment
Bee On Whitestem Blazingstar Wildflower (Mt. Lemmon) — Image by kenne
These first days of summer are like the pail
of blueberries that we poured out together
into the iron sink in the basement —
a brightness unleashed and spilling over
with tiny bell-shaped flowers, the windows
opened and the shrubs overwhelming the house
like the memory of a forgotten country, Nature,
with its wandering migrations and changing borders,
its thickets, woodlands, bee-humming meadows . . .
— from Summer Surprised Us by Edward Hirsch
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I Dream of A Quiet Man 1 comment
Fiddleneck Wildflowers — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I dream of a quiet man
who explains nothing and defends
nothing, but only knows
where the rarest wildflowers
are blooming, and who goes,
and finds that he is smiling
not by his own will.
―
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Fall In The Catalinas Leave a comment
Fall In The Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
“Live each season as it passes;
breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit,
and resign yourself to the influences of each.”
— Henry David Thoreau
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Bee On Blossom Leave a comment
Bee On Blossom — Image by kenne
Bee on a blossom
A slight stirring in the breeze
Get it while you can.
— kenne
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Bee On Yellow Flower 1 comment
“Bee On Yellow Flower” — Image by kenne
“Compassion is an unstable emotion. It needs to be translated into action, or it withers.
The question of what to do with the feelings that have been aroused,
the knowledge that has been communicated. If one feels
that there is nothing ‘we’ can do — but who is that ‘we’? —
and nothing ‘they’ can do either — and who are ‘they’ —
then one starts to get bored, cynical, apathetic.”
― from Regarding the Pain of Others by
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Revisiting Mt. Lemmon Wildflowers #3 Leave a comment
This summer, the Big Horn Fire caused so much damage to the National Forest
in the Santa Catalina Mountains remains closed to the public. Therefore,
hiking and photographing wildflowers in the Catalinas will not be in 2020,
which provides a good excuse to revisit some wildflower photos over the past ten summers.
Honeybee on Sneezeweed Blossom (07/30/14, Mt. Lemmon) — Image by kenne
WATERMARK
In every desert, travelers have dried up in the sun,
with shallow wells of water right below them.
perhaps they left too soon, too young, too desperate to run
towards something or away from something else.
Perhaps they hadn’t learned the way to read the tiny trails,
the watermarks remaining from a people who have gone,
whose hieroglyphs translate — in the direction is a spring
of sweet water. Look for it. Or is it, listen?
— Diane Thiel
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Santa Catalina Prairie Clover Leave a comment
Bee On Santa Catalina Prairie Clover — Image by kenne
Becoming is Superior to Being 