Archive for the ‘Mt. Lemmon’ Category

Three Ravens Of Christmas   2 comments

Three Ravens-II-72.jpgThree Ravens Of Christmas — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Ravens high on a snow-covered tree
Carrying on a winter conversation
Shaking snow on passersby.
What fun for them and those watching
Sharing the spirit of a new-fallen snow
Passing clouds and a nipping wind
Add mystery to a wintery scene.

— kenne

Twilight On The Mountain   Leave a comment

Mt Lemmon Cabins (1 of 1)-3-Edit-4-art-72Mountain Cabin — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Night, and I travelling.
An open door by the wayside,
Throwing out a shaft of warm yellow light.
A whiff of peat-smoke;
A gleam of delf on the dresser within;
A woman’s voice crooning, as if to a child.
I pass on into the darkness.

— Joseph Campbell

Hiking Wildhorse Trail In Saguaro National Park   Leave a comment

After a day of rain in the Tucson basin and snow on Mt. Lemmon, Tom, John, Jim and I
hiked the Wildhorse Trail in the Saguaro National Park-East.Wild Horse Trail-8.jpg

Wild Horse Trail-18-72

Wild Horse Trail-22-72

Wild Horse-16-72Click Here To See More Wildhorse Trail Images by kenne

Some critic tried to put me down —
“Your poems lack the Basic Truth of Tao”
And I recall the old-times
Who were poor and didn’t care.
I have to laugh at him,
He misses the point entirely,
Men like that
Ought to stick to making money.

— Gary Snyder

 

 

Stumped In Time   3 comments

Log (1 of 2)-art-72.jpgStumped in Time — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Time logged in time

Circles go round and round

Age lines crack the years

Only a stump remains

Stumped in time

— kenne

Saying Goodbye To Fall On Mt. Lemmon   Leave a comment

Aspen Draw Trail-978307200 blog.jpgSaying 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

Naturalist   1 comment

Naturalists & RainbowsNaturalist — Image by kenne

NATURALIST

She cares about the environment
She questions the conditions
She seeks knowledge
She answers the questions
She is a problem solver
She accepts the facts
She shares her world
She sees limitless horizons
She lives in the moment
She is a naturalist.

— kenne

 

 

The Blast of The Self   1 comment

Aspen Draw Fall Colors 2013-8364 blog IIAn 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

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