Archive for the ‘Sabino Canyon’ Category
Sabino Creek Is Still Flowing — Image by kenne
Springwater in Sabino Creek is clear
Snowmelt continues to find its way
Through the canyon from Mt. Lemmon
In a world that exceeds stillness
A silent spirit enlightened of itself.
— kenne
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“Huck Finn” (Sabino Canyon) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Right is right, and wrong is wrong, and a body ain’t got no business doing wrong when he ain’t ignorant and knows better.”
— from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain
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View of Lower Sabino Canyon and the Tucson Basin from Phoneline Trail — Panorama by kenne
On a clear day
Rise and look around you
And you’ll see who you are.
On a clear day
How it will astound you
That the glow of your being outshines ev’ry star.
You’ll feel part of ev’ry mountain sea and shore.
You can hear, from far and near,
A world you’ve never heard before.
And on a clear day…
On that clear day…
You can see forever and ever more!
— from On A Clear Day You Can See Forever by Burton Lane and Alan Jay Lerner
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Greater Roadrunner (Sabino Canyon) — Image by kenne
The desert is human
endeavour’s most fitting graveyard;
the slow bleaching,
the gradual eroding into sand,
the heat stifling sound as it leaps into the air.
IT CAN’T HAPPEN HERE. But it always does.
— from Roadrunners by André Naffis-Sahely
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Phainopepla — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Bird perched on a limb
A shadow against the sky
Art in black and white.
— kenne
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Fall In The Canyon — Image by kenne
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth . . .
— from The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost
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Sabino Canyon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
I am a lone raven high
above the canyon wall
circling up, then down
as hikers make their way
on the old mule trail up
to a series of switch-backs
opening into a meadow
where many options prevail
going east, going west
before turning back north
to the mountain called Lemmon.
I am a lone raven blessed
to fly above other mortals
circling up, then down
but still, I work hard to fly
seeing images of life below
inspiration of an alien being
a curious extrovert, I call out
taken as a signal by some
just a lot of noise by others
still unnoticed by others
neutral touches interwoven.
— kenne
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Esperero Trail in Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
Near-record monsoon rains have turned Sabino Canyon into a desert oasis.
Sabino Creek Dam — HDR Image by kenne
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Northern Mockingbird On Saguaro Blossom — Photo-Artistry by kenne
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Cedar Waxwings — Photo-Artistry by kenne
To Waken An Old Lady
a flight of small
cheeping birds
skimming
bare trees
above a snow glaze.
Gaining and failing
they are buffeted
by a dark wind—
But what?
On harsh weedstalks
the flock has rested—
the snow
is covered with broken
seed husks
and the wind tempered
with a shrill
piping of plenty.
— William Carlos Williams
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Phoneline Trail In Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
the phoneline trail
where hikers experience
a path from the past
— kenne
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Three images merged in Photoshop to create this Panorama by kenne
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View West From Blackett’s Ridge Across Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
The path to Han-shan’s place is laughable,
A path, but no sign of cart or horse.
Converging gorges — hard to trace their twists
Jumbled cliffs — unbelievably rugged.
A thousand grasses bend with dew,
A hill of pines hums in the wind.
And now I’ve lost the shortcut home,
Body asking shadow, how do you keep up?
— from Cold Mountain Poems by Gary Snyder
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Sabino Canyon: View From Blackett’s Ridge — Photo-Artistry by kenne
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Canyon View — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Sonnet 18
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
— William Shakespeare
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Becoming is Superior to Being 