Archive for the ‘Mt. Lemmon’ Category
A Fall Scene On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Leaves, wet and breathing,
circle the small green mind of moss.
From the cliff’s lip,
a drop gathers,
falls—
not a fall at all,
but gravity’s remembering.
— kenne
Aspen Trail On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Yellow is the hush before the wind,
the trembling song of what must change.
On the Aspen Trail,
each leaf a coin of sunlight spent wisely—
then let go.
— kenne
Photo-artistry by kenne
Mt. Lemmon’s fall colors become artificial near the fenceline
By the time you reach the fenceline,
where the last maples lean against the fence
and the ground tilts toward Tucson,
the color has gone plastic—
a red too red, a yellow borrowed
from a gas station sign.
The trees remember what’s expected of them,
how the tourists need their postcard.
A kid poses for her mother’s phone,
and the mountain obliges,
spilling out one last bit of October
for the algorithm.
You stand by the fence—
the smell of sap and exhaust mingling
and think of the men who built
the road you drove up on.
Their sweat staining the stone still,
their laughter lost somewhere
between true color and paint.
The wind tries to speak again,
but no one listens.
The leaves keep shining
in their counterfeit glory,
each one a small rebellion
already fading.
— kenne
Pine Cone on Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
“Always be on the lookout for the presence of wonder.”
― E.B. White
Ed Rawl Photographing Birdbill Dayflowers (08/29/2014) — Image by kenne
I remember those trails with Ed,
the Santa Catalinas rising around us,
their air thin with pine and sun.
He would stop for what others missed—
a flicker of wings,
a lizard in the shadow of stone,
or, this time,
a birdbill dayflower,
its petals a sudden blue flame
against the dust of the path.
Camera lifted,
he leaned close as if in prayer,
framing the fragile bloom
with patient hands.
I stood back,
watching him catch
what the mountain offered—
a moment small and perfect,
saved in light,
rooted in memory.
(Ed Rawl passed away on April 18, 2020, after experiencing a stroke.)
Arizona Beggarticks Wildflowers — Image by kenne
In the Sonoran Desert
images wait at every turn—
cactus spines, bird wings,
shadows shifting on stone.
And there, unassuming,
Arizona beggarticks bloom,
small suns at ankle height,
flaring yellow against the sand.
Later, their seeds cling tight,
hitchhikers on pant leg and paw,
a quiet insistence
that the desert travels with you,
wherever you go.
Photo Artistry by kenne
Angry Raven
Dark flash on the limb—
he jerks, flares, and squawks aloud
like sky has betrayed.
No wind, no rival,
just the weight of summer heat
pressing on black wings.
He scolds the silence,
each cry a sharp-edged protest
hurled at empty air.
Then—sudden stillness.
Even his shadow seems mad,
shaking on the limb.
Lady Beetles Having Lunch — Image by kenne
Clustered like red seeds,
they gather on stem and leaf—
a quiet feast begins.
Aphids scatter slow,
unaware of what has come
with speckled hunger.
No words, no warning—
just patient, shared purpose
under the sunlight.
The mountain watches,
as tiny jaws work in peace—
beauty with a bite.
Wild Raspberries On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
The path is narrow,
soft with pine needles, and silent.
Mist rises from the shaded ground.
Clusters of raspberries—
deep red against green thicket—
catch the slant of morning.
Not gathered,
not even noticed,
except by the breeze
and a single bird,
waiting.
Here, the mountain offers sweetness
without asking.
Fendler’s Globemallow On Butterfly Trail — Image by kenne
Each bloom a whisper
in the hush of mountain air—
along the ridgeline.
Golden Columbine Art (Mt. Lemmon) — Image by kenne
Morning mist lifts slow—
golden columbine glistens,
sunlight finds each leaf.
Summer On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Fleabane’s soft pink stars,
thistles bristle in the breeze—
summer stirs the trail.
Honey Bee On Sneezeweed — Image by kenne
Honey bee at work—
sneezeweed sways on Mt. Lemmon,
gold dust in the breeze.
Lupine Blue Butterfly On Cranesbill Wildflower — Image by kenne
Lupine blue flickers—
on cranesbill’s soft purple face,
wings kiss morning light.
Thurber Cinquefoil Wildflower — Photo-artistry by kenne
Petals like sunflakes,
spilled across the desert floor—
Thurber’s silent cheer.