Archive for the ‘Santa Catalina Mountains’ Category
Front Range of the Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
Winter rain—
desert floor darkens,
mountains hold the clouds
like old agreements
finally kept.
— kenne
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The Regal Horned Lizard, Sometimes Called a Horny Toad — Image by kenne
The Regal Horned Lizard settles into the grit,
color-matched to the stones and dust.
You can stare right at it
and never know you’re being watched.
— kenne
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Wispy Clouds High Above The Santa Catalina Mountains — by kenne
Desert Imagist
Thin wispy clouds —
ice threads pulled across the high blue,
as if the sky were mending itself
with pale stitching.
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Smiling Sun On the Wall — Photo-artistry by kenne
At solstice, the shadow holds still,
a perfect exposure.
The wall remembers the sun
not as warmth,
but as form—
enduring, exact, and silent.
— kenne
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Bright Colors of the Season — Image by kenne
I walk through the bright colors of the season,
fire-red leaves falling like words
I once meant to say.
The mountain exhales—
a slow, last sigh.
Somewhere below,
a stream folds light into its cold hands,
and I remember what forgiveness feels like.
— kenne
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Snow on Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
A traveler who pauses to admire the beauty of woods filling with snow,
but is reminded by his horse and his own sense of duty that he must
continue his journey because he has “promises to keep”
and “miles to go before I sleep.
— from Stopping by the Woods On a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost
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Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Go alone, if you would see clearly.
Crowds borrow courage from noise.
The solitary man,
standing before a vast horizon,
measures himself without deception.
There, humility is not taught—
it is required,
as gravity requires weight.
— kenne
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Front Range Snow On the Catalinas — Image by kenne
Sun breaks over the Rincons,
throws gold sideways
onto Catalina snow.
Raven rides a thermal
rising from bare rock,
circle over circle—
energy borrowed
from sun,
stone,
air,
everything.
Nothing mystical—
just earth doing
what earth does.
And me,
lucky to stand in it.
— kenne
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One of Several Low-water Crossings in Sabino Canyon — Image by kenne
Low-Water Bridges
There’s a kind of mischief in a low-water bridge.
Looks harmless when the creek’s quiet—
just a flat stretch of concrete
with dragonflies for sentries.
But you wait for the rain.
Then it turns trickster—
swells its belly,
covers the road,
and dares you to guess how deep.
I crossed one at sunrise once,
boots wet,
heart lighter
than it had any right to be.
The creek chuckled under its breath—
as if it knew a thousand fools before me
had tried to outsmart water,
most have failed to win.
— kenne
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Sabino Canyon Sunrise — Image by kenne
“Photographs do not render reality–realistically.
It is reality which is scrutinized, and evaluated, for its fidelity to photographs.
Instead of just recording reality, photographs have become the norm
for the way things appear to us, thereby changing the very idea of reality,
and of realism.”
— Susan Sontag
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Joy at Seven Falls (02/07/11) — Image by kenne
I first posted “The Demons of Fear” in December 2005 during the George W. Bush administration. What I was writing about twenty years ago is still very relevant today.
The Demons of Fear
Like many Americans, my formative years were at a time when communism was our only axis of evil. The reasons for qualifying as evil were many, e.g., starting wars against smaller countries, breaking international laws, torturing people, espionage organizations spying on their own people, controlling information, and building a giant prison industry, to name a few. Such reasons were easy to believe because of the simplistic notion that if communism (then) was evil, capitalism (we) was good. Therefore, we would never, never, never do such things. (Such acts are bad, and, of course, we are good!)
“Never say never!” Even more significantly, “. . . don’t make the mistake of believing your own lies.” Of course, in politics, the custom is “Never tell a lie when you can bullshit your way through.”
Truth cannot be found in talking points based on good vs. evil. This is the so-called “cowboy” mentality that our president and many in Congress have bottled and continue to sell to the American public.
Justifying acts based on false dichotomies only falsifies reality. But the convenient reversal of good and evil is an even bigger sin. One current example is our leadership’s support for the nomination of a judge based on his strict constitutionalist views while authorizing secret acts allowing spying on Americans.
Such secret executive decisions are troubling and represent an attitude of political convenience that considers nothing of treading on the basic liberties protected by our Constitution. Even after Congress passed the USA Patriot Act, which allowed our demons of fear to trespass on our liberties, the President pretentiously felt that additional infringements on the Constitution and our liberties were necessary.
Over three years ago, Lt. Gen. Michael Hayden (head of the National Security Agency) stated to a joint House-Senate inquiry on intelligence (ref. NY Times):
“We need to get it right. We have to find the right balance between protecting our security and protecting our liberty. “. . . What I really need you to do is talk to your constituents and find out where the American people want that line between security and liberty to be.”
Can we get it right? Can we bury our demons of fear? Can you! Can I?
For many, the politics of fear generates skepticism, which denies reliable access to an objective reality and “. . . therefore rejects the possibility of knowing how things truly are.” If reality has no inherent nature, then to “get it right,” each one of us must be true to our nature. Truth, like love, can exist only when the tombstones of our demons have been erected.
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Thanksgiving Eve On The Patio — Image by kenne
The day rises like a song,
steam lifting from pots,
voices rising in warm tumult.
I thank the earth that fed us,
the sky that watered us,
the invisible threads
that bind our destinies together.
Gratitude walks with me like a brother.
— kenne
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An Orange-Capped Mushroom on Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Under a quilt of needles,
it presses upward—
a small insistence
against the coming white silence.
— kenne
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Girl Atop Windy Point Pinnacle — Image by kenne
Windy Point Girl
She’s up there now,
short-shorts and sunlight,
heart beating faster
than the climb.
Wind takes her hair,
makes a banner of it—
victory in a wild language
only mountains understand.
Below, Tucson sprawls,
small as toy houses,
streets like veins
spilling into desert.
She smiles,
pushing back her hair,
as if the world itself
were hers to love,
and for a moment—
I swear it is.
— kenne
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Thurber’s Cinquefoil On Sunset Trail — Image by kenne
Thurber’s cinquefoil glows,
sunset leans on the ridgeline—
silence takes its breath.
— kenne
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