Fall Landscape — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— Thomas Moore
End of Day Reflections — Image by kenne
Picture window
Fall sunset
Darkness settles
Lights shine inside
Window reflects
Sunset is gone
Day becomes night
Mirror window
‘Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest …’
— kenne
Leaves On A Log — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Went looking for faith on the forest floor,
and it showed up everywhere.
In the sun, and the water,
and the falling leaves,
the falling leaves of time.
Fallen Leaves — Abstract Art by kenne
— kenne
Early Morning Light on Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— from “Autumn” by John Clare
The Slopes are Waiting — Image by kenne
It’s been a warm and dry fall on Mt. Lemmon, which could be a sign of little moisture and low temperatures the winter for Sky Valley.
— kenne
End of November — Image by kenne
— kenne
First Camellia Bonsai Blossom — Image by kenne
One year ago October, our friends Kathy and Bob from Winchester, Virginia visited us. They gave us our first camellia bonsai tree. Since then I have been careful to make sure it was watered regularly here in the desert southwest. Although it is typically a late fall blooming plant, the little tree didn’t have any blossoms when we receive it. So, we have been anxiously waiting for it to bloom this fall, wondering if the buds were ever going to open. This image is the first blossom.
Thanks again, Kathy and Bob for the lovely bonsai.
— kenne
Yellow Rose Muse, Made for Soothing Thoughts — Image by kenne
— William James
Image by kenne
Autumn
— Archibald MacLeish
Autumn Leaves — Grunge Art by kenne
— kenne
Fall Festival Art by kenne
— kenne
Fall Leaves at Peace — Image by kenne
— kenne
Fall, Stamped and Delivered — Computer Art by kenne
— kenne
Fall Colors — Computer Art by kenne
For the lands, and for these passionate days, and for myself,
Now I awhile return to thee, O soil of Autumn fields,
Reclining on thy breast, giving myself to thee,
Answering the pulses of thy sane and equable heart,
Tuning a verse for thee.
O Earth, that hast no voice, confide to me a voice!
O harvest of my lands! O boundless Summer growths!
O lavish, brown, parturient earth! O infinite, teeming womb!
O theatre of time, and day, and night!
A verse, to seek to see, to narrate thee.
— from “A Carol of Harvest for 1867” by Walt Whitman
