A Desire to Hike In Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
She was visiting from Eastern Europe
and wanted to see the desert on foot.
Sabino Canyon unfolded before her step by step—
a landscape of stone, cactus, and sky—
while friendship bridged the miles between our worlds.
Greater Earless Lizard in Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
Cocklebur Art by kenne
— kenne
Early Morning in Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
Morning spills gold through the canyon.
A cactus lifts its arms
as if remembering a prayer.
I walk beneath it and hear
the quiet voice of Rumi:
The road you walk
is walking you home
— kenne
Sabino Sunrise — Image by kenne
Dawn spills over the mountains
and the giants wake.
Their shadows stretch like old cowboys
after a long night.
No hurry.
No apology.
Just another day
outlasting us all.
— kenne
Male Phainopepla High in a Mesquite Tree — Image by kenne
The phainopepla sits in the mesquite
like a drop of ink that refused to dry.
My naturalist mentor would say
some creatures are born already knowing
how to keep their shine.
When it lifts,
white flashes beneath its wings—
a secret lining
only shown in motion.
— kenne
Saguaro Sunrise — Image by kenne
Saguaro cactus at sunrise—
you say endurance,
beauty against all odds.
I see a drunk saint
full of needles
hoarding water like secrets.
The sun bleeds out behind it
without apology.
If there’s a lesson there,
it’s that even the harshest thing
knows how to bloom
when it has to.
— kenne
Hazy Morning Sun In Sabino Canyon — Silhouette Image by kenne
— kenne
Good Morning from Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
— kenne
Two Cedar Waxwings Resting in A Mesquite — Image by kenne
— kenne
Eastern Bluebird — Image by kenne
— kenne
Burrs, the Original Velcro — Image by kenne
— kenne
Varied Bunting on a Mesquite Limb — Image by kenne
— kenne
Sabino Canyon at Sunrise — Image by kenne
— kenne
Desert Existential Moment — Image by kenne
Thinking is the fever we mistake for health.
We name the world to quiet it,
draw borders around what frightens us.
But fear is faithful—
it returns with every sunrise,
reminding us the map is not the mountain,
and reason only another storm
in the endless desert of being.
— kenne
