Cottonwoods Creating Fall Colors In The Desert Winter (01/02/20) — Image by kenne
Archive for the ‘Fall Colors’ Category
Fall Colors In The Desert Winter Leave a comment
Saying Goodbye To Fall On Mt. Lemmon Leave a comment
Saying Goodbye to Fall On Mt. Lemmon — Photo-artistry by kenne
We have passed through fall, for now,
Saying goodbye to falling leaves,
Relaced by falling snowflakes,
Blanketing the narrow forest trails.
* * * * *
“The ten hours’ light is abating,
And a late bird wings across,
Where the pines, like waltzers waiting,
Give their black heads a toss.”
— kenne
Share this:
The Blast of The Self 1 comment
An Aspen Fall — Photo-Artistry by kenne
In a letter dated 4/26/03, by brother Tom wrote:
“I am in the midst of ‘trying’ to memorize a poem . . .
‘Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour’ by Wallace Stevens . . .
never mind why . . .
although the exercise was triggered by a piece by
George Steiner in which he wrote:
‘The danger is that the text or music will lose what physics
calls its ‘critical mass,’ its implosive powers within
the echo chambers of the self.'”
Tom was aware that what is committed to memory
and susceptible to recall constitutes “The Blast of The Self,”
an intensity of outward attention — interest, curiosity,
a healthy obsession was a motivation stronger
even than love or hatred or fear.
— kenne
Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour
Light the first light of evening, as in a room
In which we rest and, for small reason, think
The world imagined is the ultimate good.
This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous.
It is in that thought that we collect ourselves,
Out of all the indifferences, into one thing:
Within a single thing, a single shawl
Wrapped tightly round us, since we are poor, a warmth,
A light, a power, the miraculous influence.
Here, now, we forget each other and ourselves.
We feel the obscurity of an order, a whole,
A knowledge, that which arranged the rendezvous.
Within its vital boundary, in the mind.
We say God and the imagination are one…
How high that highest candle lights the dark.
Out of this same light, out of the central mind,
We make a dwelling in the evening air,
In which being there together is enough.
— Wallace Stevens
Share this:
Mt. Lemmon Fall Colors, A Gift From The Mountain Gods 1 comment
Mt. Lemmon Fall Colors, A Gift From The Mountain Gods
— Photo-Artistry by kenne
Autumn Song
Now the leaves are falling fast,
Nurse’s flowers will not last;
Nurses to the graves are gone,
And the prams go rolling on.
Whispering neighbours, left and right,
Pluck us from the real delight;
And the active hands must freeze
Lonely on the separate knees.
Dead in hundreds at the back
Follow wooden in our track,
Arms raised stiffly to reprove
In false attitudes of love.
Starving through the leafless wood
Trolls run scolding for their food;
And the nightingale is dumb,
And the angel will not come.
Cold, impossible, ahead
Lifts the mountain’s lovely head
Whose white waterfall could bless
Travellers in their last distress.
— W. H. Auden
Share this:
Another Take On A Old Image Leave a comment
Another Take On A Old Image — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Nature is not evil. The world occasionally shrugs its shoulders,
and people get knocked off.
The earth, for geological reasons that are well known,
is a fairly risky place to live. To be evil, you have to have intent.
Any remarkable natural happening in which no human will is employed
cannot be regarded as evil.
— Simon Winchester
Share this:
Hiking with Old Buddies 1 comment
The SCVN Friday Nature Hike was Aspen Trail, Marshall Gulch Trail loop,
which would provide an opportunity to see the beautiful fall colors on Mt. Lemmon.
The Aspen Trail has a grove of aspens, which I blogged in a previous posting.
After hiking through the aspen grove, I began to get out in front of the nature hikers.
With less fall color on the remaining part of the Aspen Trail I decided to pick-up my pace.
I knew from past experience there would be plenty of fall color on the Marshall Gulch Trail.
I was aware that my buddies, Jim Thompson and Tom Markey, were hiking the trail;
hence, I might be able to catch up with them.
I first began hiking with Jim and Tom nine years ago. They were part of the Monday Morning Milers (MMM),
the first hiking group with which I started hiking.
Most of the MMM were lifetime hikers in southeast Arizona, many of whom were in their 80’s.
Jim recently celebrated his 90th birthday.
While Tom is a youngster like me, he’s 79.
Images by kenne
It seems, as one becomes older,
That the past has another pattern,
And ceases to be a mere sequence —
Or even development: the latter a partial fallacy
Encouraged by superficial notions of evolution,
Which becomes, in the popular mind,
A means of disowning the past.
The moments of happiness — not the sense of well-being,
Fruition, fulfillment, security or affection,
Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination —
We had the experience but missed the meaning,
And approach to the meaning restores the experience
In a different form, beyond any meaning
We can assign to happiness.
— from “Four Quartets” by T. S. Eliot
Share this:
Sabino Canyon Fall Colors Panoramas 4 comments
Sabino Canyon Fall Colors Along Sabino Creek Panoramas — Photo-Essay by kenne
Share this:
Rain Drops On Autumn Leaves Leave a comment
Rain Drops On Autumn Leaves — Image by kenne
there’s a dry cold air
remaining after a dawn rain
in the high desert mountains
not cold enough to snow
yet cold enough
to send a chill
throughout your body
the morning sunrise guides light
inside the dark forest
just ahead of a morning jogger
following a trail
forming a seam
across the forest floor
carpeted with leaves
of red and gold
dotted with raindrops
appearing to jump
as the returning light
glimmers through
each temporary dome
soon to disappear
beneath a winter blanket of snow
— kenne
Share this:
Creek Reflections Leave a comment
Creek Reflections — Computer Art by kenne
Sky above,
water below,
or is it
the other way around —
it’s your call
in our upside-down
world.
— kenne
Share this:
Stone Wall and Dry Times Leave a comment
Dry Times In Sabino Canyon — Images by kenne
These images are near the dam area of Sabino Creek, which has been dry for some time.
“Goodbye — if you hear of my being stood up a
stone wall and shot to rags please know that I think that a
pretty good way to depart this life. It beats old age, disease,
or falling down the cellar stairs.”
— Pancho Villa
Share this:
Mt. Lemmon Ski Run — Fall Colors Leave a comment
Mt. Lemmon Ski Run, Fall Colors — Image by kenne
“During World War II, a group of skiers made up of Lowell Thomas , a noted journalist and adventurer, a local forest ranger, and many Davis Monthan serviceman which included Thomas’ son, later a Governor of Alaska, and Art Devlin, a future Olympic ski jumper and Television commentator, formed the Saguaro Ski Club. The well-known cartoonist, Paul Webb, created a patch and membership certificates for the club showing a skier wrapped around a saguaro cactus.” Click here for more information.
Share this:
A Walk In The Woods 1 comment
Autumn On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Nature
by Henry David Thoreau
O Nature! I do not aspire
To be the highest in thy choir, –
To be a meteor in thy sky,
Or comet that may range on high;
Only a zephyr that may blow
Among the reeds by the river low;
Give me thy most privy place
Where to run my airy race.
In some withdrawn, unpublic mead
Let me sigh upon a reed,
Or in the woods, with leafy din,
Whisper the still evening in:
Some still work give me to do, –
Only – be it near to you!
For I’d rather be thy child
And pupil, in the forest wild,
Than be the king of men elsewhere,
And most sovereign slave of care;
To have one moment of thy dawn,
Than share the city’s year forlorn.
