San Carlos, Sonora Sunset — Image by kenne
We become a silhouette in each other’s arms
as the sun goes down behind us in San Carlos—
the light withdrawing slowly
like a hand from a blessing.
All afternoon the Sea of Cortez
glittered without mercy.
I can’t see your face anymore,
only the outline of us—
two dark figures pressed together
against the last blaze of day.
It feels ancient, this vanishing—
as if love is something
the sun teaches by leaving.
— kenne
Black and White Sunset — Image by kenne
— kenne
Sunset — Image by kenne
— kenne
Sunset Over The Santa Catalina Mountains After a Rainy Day — Image by kenne
Desert-Luminous
— kenne
Couple Watching the Sunset on the Sea of Cortés Shore in Puerto Peñasco — Image by kenne
— kenne
Sunset Sky — Image by kenne
Photography patronizes.
Life moves—
blur, breath, forgetting.
A flash halts it,
fixes detail
into permanence—
which is its lie.
— kenne
Telluride Sunset — Image by kenne
Telluride Sunset
The sun drags its golden
behind the mountains,
spilling over rooftops
and the long shadows of people
crossing Main Street.
Boots scuff the pavement,
laughter floats with
the smell of wood smoke.
No hurry, though the light burns low—
each step a pause,
each glance a small rebellion
against time’s insistence.
Somewhere,
a river runs behind the town,
catching the last fire of day.
Somewhere else,
the mountains hold the wind
like an old joke.
And we cross the street,
thinking we are moving forward,
but really just floating
in the golden end of day,
alive to everything
we cannot carry with us.
Sunset Over the Foothills — Image by kenne
Foothills
Monsoon Sunset from Our Patio — Image by kenne
— kenne
A Mouth Harp Sunset Song On Blackett’s Ridge — Image by kenne
Mouth Harp Song for the Sunset
Tanuri Ridge Sunset Computer Painting — Image by kenne
Evening comes slowly,
a patient hand across the desert sky.
Tanuri Ridge lifts its quiet spine
against the last of the light,
trees and shadows holding their place
as the horizon begins to burn.
The sun spills its final colors—
deep amber,
rose drifting into violet,
a breath of gold dissolving into silence.
Every hue lingers longer than the last,
as though the sky is unwilling to let go.
On the screen,
a digital brush gathers the moment,
stroke after stroke shaping what fades.
Pixels remember
what the eye can only witness once.
Here, in painted light,
the sunset does not vanish—
it stays suspended,
a meditation on time,
a stillness made visible,
a horizon that never fully darkens.
A Tucson Sunset — Image by kenne
— Mary Hunter Austin
Sunset Over the Sea of Cortez — Image by kenne
― from The Log from the Sea of Cortez by John Steinbeck
Sonoran Sunset — Image by kenne
— Mark Twain
