View of Sabino Canyon Dam Area — Image by kenne
The view from the top
A creek carrying snowmelt
Spring flowers emerge.
— kenne
Archive for the ‘Sabino Dam’ Category
View Of Sabino Canyon Dam Area Leave a comment
Sabino Dam, January 2020 Leave a comment
Sabino Dam, January 2020 — Image by kenne
A crown of gold
over water flowing
from recent snow
melting on Mt. Lemmon.
Down by the creek banks
water a fading red residue
from the leaves of fall now
under the mountain snow.
Now and then
pieces of the crown
slowly begin to fall
leaving a nakedness.
Alone a trail above the dam
visitors walk near the water
drawn by nature’s presence
exchanging moment mysteries.
— kenne
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New Year At Sabino Creek Dam 1 comment
Sabino Creek is flowing in the new year due to some winter rains
and new snow melting in the mountains. — Images by kenne
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Duck Above The Sabino Dam 1 comment
Mallard Duck in the Water Above the Sabino Dam — Image by kenne
Old age isn’t a battle; old age is a massacre.
— Philip Roth
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Raven — The Town Cryer Leave a comment
“The Town Cryer” — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Poetry is read by the lovers of poetry
and heard by some move they coax to the cafe
or the district library for a bifocal reading.
Lovers of poetry may total a million people
on the whole planet. Fewer than the players of skat.
— from “The Instrument” by Les Murray
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I’ll Take My Spring On The Rocks 1 comment
“I’ll Take My Spring On the Rocks” (Sabino Creek near the dam.) — Image by kenne
“When you sit in silence long enough,
you learn that silence has a motion.
It glides over you without shape or form,
exactly like water. Its color is silver.
And silence has a sound you hear
only after hours of wading inside it.
The sound is soft,
like flute notes rising up,
like the words of glass speaking.
Then there comes a point
when you must shatter
the blindness of its words,
the blindness of its light.”
― Anne Spollen, The Shape of Water
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Solitude — “I’ll Take Mine On The Rocks!” 1 comment
“Spring On The Rocks” (Sabino Creek near the dam.) — Image by kenne
“When you sit in silence long enough, you learn that silence has a motion.
It glides over you without shape or form, exactly like water.
Its color is silver.
And silence has a sound you hear only after hours of wading inside it.
The sound is soft, like flute notes rising up, like the words of glass speaking.
Then there comes a point when you must shatter the blindness of its words,
the blindness of its light.”
― Anne Spollen, The Shape of Water
