Eastern Bluebird — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Free as a Bird
— kenne
Verdin In Mesquite Tree — Image by kenne
Verdin’s Nest — Image by kenne
A Saguaro Family In Kings Canyon (March 1, 2019) — Image by kenne
Sacred Thorn Apple Abstract Art — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Brittlebush In Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
— kenne
Female Phainopepla — Photo-Artistry by kenne
There She Was
There she was,
Gazing at me
Wondering why
I look so funny.
There she was,
On her perch
An ocotillo branch
Sharing the gray.
There she was
A little red
In her eye
Continuing to gaze.
There she was
As I wonder why
The ocotillo
Not mesquite.
There she was
Flycatcher by name
Preferring the berries
Of desert mistletoe.
There she was
Not gazing at me
Turning her eye
To mistletoe berries.
There she was
In the desert winter
No insects
For this flycatcher.
There she was
Where there are
Berries abundant
For a misnamed bird.
There she was
Until the days
Grew hot
In the desert sun.
Now she’s gone
To the mountains
In search of a
New berry source.
— kenne
Sunflower From The Past — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Image by kenne (January 15, 2010)
“It was the spring of 1968 and I had taken a week off to join college friends in Daytona Beach, Florida. Our sunburns had not yet turned to tans and we had barely finished the first of several cases of Old Milwaukee beer (with pull tops, a recent innovation) when President Johnson shocked the nation by announcing that he would not seek another term. The Vietnam War had worn him down — and out.
And then four evenings later there was a commotion.
“They killed the nigger! The nigger’s dead!” cried a group of drunken college students as they danced and whooped in the parking lot of the motel adjacent to ours. “They killed the nigger!”
My Old Milwaukee high evaporated in a flash. We turned on the television. Dr. King had been gunned down at a Memphis motel. I wanted to hurt those students. I wanted to throw up.
We drove north the next morning. As we approached Washington, there were huge black clouds of smoke over the city. We overtook a convoy of troop carriers filled with National Guardsmen, rifles slung over their shoulders. The riots following Dr. King’s murder were well underway, and the New York Avenue corridor of tenements, flophouses, liquor stores and churches in Northwest Washington was in flames. It was hard to drive around the city in those days, but we found a detour.
The rioting spread, and the next night. I was again in newspaper reporter’s mufti and took my Daytona tan down to The Valley, a poor neighborhood in Wilmington, Delaware where young blacks were skirmishing with the city police and National Guard. There were fires and intermittent gunfire from snipers atop the row houses. At one point a bullet whizzed over my head. Yes, just like in the movies.
I was still shaking when I got back to my apartment the next morning. I cried over the inhumanity of my fellow man, for my black friends and for Dr. King.”
— from “Remembering Dr. King & The Never Ending Struggle For Civil Rights” by Shaun Mullen (January 16, 2012)
Cedar Waxwings — Photo-artistry by kenne
— from Band on the Run by Paul McCartney
Hanging Art Work — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Tucson Skyline — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Mission San José de Tumacácori Visitor Center Entrance — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Lower Pima Canyon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
