Hiking Boots — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The mountain seems no more a soulless thing,
But rather as a shape of ancient fear,
In darkness and the winds of Chaos born
Amid the lordless heavens’ thundering–
A Presence crouched, enormous and austere,
Before whose feet the mighty waters mourn.
— from Night On the Mountain By George Sterling
September Sunset — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I wanted a good place in the foothills
To have a drink as the sun goes down.
Light breezes move silver-green olive leaves —
I watch swirling clouds circle the sun.
How did I make it here?
My heart just pushed me here.
If your heart was like mine
You’d put down the book and be here.
— kenne
Hikers — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Horse Lubber Grasshopper Atop a Saguaro Cactus — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
Vultures Circling the Globe — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
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
Potted — Photo-Artistry by kenne
— kenne
