Archive for the ‘Mushrooms’ Category
Mushrooms On A Log — HDR Image by kenne
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants – (1350)
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants –
At Evening, it is not
At Morning, in a Truffled Hut
It stop opon a Spot
As if it tarried always
And yet it’s whole Career
Is shorter than a Snake’s Delay –
And fleeter than a Tare –
’Tis Vegetation’s Juggler –
The Germ of Alibi –
Doth like a Bubble antedate
And like a Bubble, hie –
I feel as if the Grass was pleased
To have it intermit –
This surreptitious Scion
Of Summer’s circumspect.
Had Nature any supple Face
Or could she one contemn –
Had Nature an Apostate –
That Mushroom – it is Him!
— Emily Dickinson
(For you purest, with respect to Emily Dickinson, we know mushrooms are not plants, but rather they are fungi.)
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Late Season Mushrooms on Mt. Lemmon –IHDR mage by kenne
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Mushroom On a Log — Mt. Lemmon Image by kenne
In recent years, many remarkable experiments have shown that fungi operate as individuals, engage in decision-making,
are capable of learning, and possess short-term memory. These findings highlight the spectacular sensitivity of such ‘simple’
organisms and situate the human version of the mind within a spectrum of consciousness that might well span the entire natural world.
Source: The Fungal Mind: On the Evidence for Mushroom Intelligence by Sally Davies
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Mushrooms on Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The truth knocks on the door,
and you say,
Go away, I’m looking for the truth,
and so it goes away.
Puzzling.
― Robert M. Pirsig
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Mt. Lemmon Mushrooms — HDR Image by kenne
out of the darkness
into the forest shadows
a new life in light
— kenne
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Image by kenne
Keep Pushing Against All Odds.
— kenne
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Montagnea mushrooms grow in the Sonoran Desert and can frequently be seen in open spaces in Tucson.
— kenne
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Mushrooms on Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Where do I begin and end in space?
I have relations to the sun and air,
which are just as vital
parts of my existence as my heart.
— Alan W. Watts
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A Mushroom Triad — Photo-Artistry kenne
A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit,
Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb,
Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has grown—
A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds.
*
A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs,
Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,
Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind—
A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs.
*
A poem should be equal to:
Not true.
For all the history of grief
An empty doorway and a maple leaf.
For love
The leaning grasses and two lights above the sea—
A poem should not mean
But be.
— Achibald MacLeish
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A Mushroom Garden On Mt. Lemmon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Falling in love is like eating mushrooms,
you never know if it’s the real thing until it’s too late.”
— Bill Balance
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Mt. Lemmon Mushrooms — Image by kenne
Mount Lemmon Mushrooms
Appear from out of nowhere
Pushing aside leaves —
Sometimes on decaying logs
Sometimes on the sides of trees.
— kenne
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Mushrooms Steps — Computer Painting by kenne
The Night Serpent
If mushrooms were to
grow backward,
what would the
wee people sit on
under the stars to
watch nude maidens
dance to the night serpent’s
pulsating drum beat?
— kenne
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Mt. Lemmon Mushrooms — Computer Art by kenne
To be old can be glorious if one has not unlearned how to begin.
— Martin Buber
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Psychedelic Mushrooms — Computer art by kenne
Engrossing as a black hole
or your TV screen. I send out
no powers: I accept all
energies, all joys and juices . . .
–from “Dr. P.H.D. Dark, Hypnotist” by W.D. Snodgrass
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Mushrooms — Image by kenne
I look through the hole and saw a landscape like that behind
our home, uncared for, and wild. I moved back a few steps
because I sensed vaguely that something was about to happen.
— from Childhood and Poetry, by Pablo Neruda
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