Mt. Lemmon Is Dry — Image by kenne
The Summer monsoon officially starts today.
However, nature didn’t get the message.
Whether in the desert valley or the mountains
the drought continues to preach the southwest.
Will this monsoon season be another nonsoom?
— kenne
Ocotillo Blossoms — Image by kenne
— kenne
Hawking Pizza In Tucson — Image by kenne
— kenne
Pond Slider (Lake Houston, October 25, 2013) — HDR Image by kenne
Black Saddlebags Dragonfly — Image by kenne
— kenne
Variegated Fritillary Butterfly — Image by kenne
— kenne
Wilderness of Rocks Trail In The Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
Piute Creek
Little Potted Cactus On The Patio — Image by kenne
“Its object of desire being infinite, art’s movement will
never cease to be carried perpetually forward, for it
will never discover a limit to what it seeks.”
— Saint Gregory of Nyassa
Happiness — Image by kenne
I remember sitting there looking out over the valley,
there was such a sense of circumstance.
You know, that feeling that this is happiness.
It was the moment, right then.
— kenne
Turned Around — Image by kenne
Turned around,
Here am I.
Knowing how,
Not the why.
Young in heart
Old in age.
Feeling the itch,
Pacing the cage.
Inner peace,
Knowing the thou.
Learning to write
Thesis of now.
Turned around,
Found love.
Living the moment,
Free as a dove.
Still learning,
When to talk.
Listening for,
Beat of the walk.
Reality is now,
Truth in the heart.
Singing the knowledge,
Requiem to smart.
Turned around,
Found beauty in art.
Traveling the future,
With Dylan and Descartes
— kenne
Succulent Graveyard (Normally drought resistant plants having trouble surviving.) — Images by kenne
When we moved to Tucson eleven years ago, a small patch of succulents (a type of aloe) grew on the rocky slope next to the house. I have not watered them, but the past year we have had very little rain; many have died, and those not dead the tips have dried up in an attempt to save the plant. There were no flowers this spring.
So, I decided to pull up each plant. For several days I spent early mornings pulling up each aloe plant. Now I have to bag what remains.
— kenne
Silver-spotted Skipper — Image by kenne
― fromThe Critic as Artist by
Yellow-eyed Junco On Old Mining Wheel — Image by kenne
Old friends? They mostly vanish, they are ghosts out on the road
Some turned around, threw up their hands, and disappeared
Like old folk songs, their stories change, fairytales of love and pain
Another verse, another chorus, one more year.
— from The Light Beyond the Coyote Fence by Tom Russell
Giant Reed In The Tanque Verde Wash — Image by kenne
Giant reed is an invasive grass common to riparian areas, streams, and rivers throughout the Southwest.
It thrives in moist soils (moderately saline or freshwater), sand dunes, and wetland areas.
Giant reed forms dense, monocultural stands and often crowds out native vegetation for soil moisture, nutrients, and space.
When dry, it is highly flammable and becomes a fire danger in riparian habitats unaccustomed to sustaining fire.
It uses far more water than native vegetation, thus disturbing the natural flood regime.
Shoots and stems grow rapidly (as much as 4 inches per day during spring), outpacing native plant growth.
Shallow parts of the root system along stream edges are susceptible to undercutting, which contributes to bank
collapse and spreading of reproductive parts downstream. Giant reed grows back quickly following a fire,
thereby increasing its dominance over native riparian species.
I spotted this growth out in the Tanque Verde wash while walking the trail near the wash the other morning.
— kenne
Source: Forest Service
Bird on the Forest Floor — Image by kenne
— kenne
