My skin is the cover of my body. It keeps me bound to my surroundings. It is the leather over my spine. It is the silk over the corneas of my eyes. Where I am hairless, at the lips and groin, there is pinkness and vulnerability. Despite a protective covering of horny skin, there is no such problem with my fingers, whose ridges and grooves are so gratifying to both the lover and the criminologist. I think perhaps the entire history of me is here—viper of memory, stab of regret, red light of oblivion. Hell would be living without them.
A Morning Walk Along The Tanque Verde Wash — Images by kenne
Our community of Tanuri Ridge backs up to the Tanque Verde Wash. The wash continues to eat away at our property line. Soon, this part of the trail will be washed away, along with the “branch art” monuments along the Tanque Verde banks.
Recent mountain rains in the Catalinas are beginning to bring ash from the Big Horn Fire to the wash.
● relax ● don’t compete ● always respect nature ● be patient and you will get there ● be conscious, rocks can harm you and others ● go new ways, boost your creativity ● let go when its time to ● push your limits ● never give up ● enjoy the art
During this of the coronavirus as neighbors, we see one another more often,
all be it at a distance as we shelter at home, providing more time for things to drift
through my open mind. This posting first appeared in April 2014.
— kenne
“Waves of Joy” — Image by kenne
Palo Verde trees, common to the Sonoran Desert, brighten the Tucson area in the springtime with millions of five-petaled yellow blossoms.
OUR NEIGHBORHOOD — TRYING TO REASON
We traverse these streets, sometimes early in the morning, sometimes late in the day, sometimes walking, sometimes running — always for a reason.
We wave at passersby, sometimes we greet them, sometimes it’s just a smile sometimes we stop and talk, sometimes walking together, always for a reason.
We have neighborly expectations, sometimes it’s watering plants, sometimes it’s calling the ill, sometimes it’s being complimentary, sometimes it’s being watchful, always for a reason.
We can be a convivial people, sometimes we go out together, occasionally we party together, sometimes we join clubs together, sometimes we share community work, always for a reason.
We can be adversaries, sometimes our expectations are not real, sometimes we overreact, sometimes we take reactions personally, sometimes power is polarized, frustration generalized, always for a reason.
We can be Pleasantville, sometimes we are without color, sometimes we are in pools of sorrow, sometimes we are in waves of joy,
sometimes drifting through my open mind,
always for a reason.
A Visitor On The Patio (Immature Cooper’s Hawk) — Images by kenne
This immature Cooper’s Hawk perched on one of our patio chairs not far from the bird feeder frequented by doves for about one minute this morning. A mature hawk would have been up in the olive tree near the feeder. Even then, that doesn’t work as well as swooping from over the rooftop. They will learn. These images were taken through the patio door, which given the time of day the doors become a mirror.
Beauty and size make the two-tailed swallowtail butterfly (Papilio multicaudata) an impressive specimen with a nearly five-inch wingspan and a body that approaches two inches in length. So impressive that is was designated the Arizona state butterfly in 2001.
Near the top of the yellow wings are 4 markings of almost parallel black lines. The posterior portion of the wings holds blue dots surrounded by black markings that curve to form a “w” shape when the wings are open. Below these dots are more rectangular shaped orange bars emblazoned into the dark outline of the wing.
Tomorrow is my grandson, Kenne Jaxon’s 8th birthday. It’s been about two years since we have seen our grandsons, Jaxon and Nick, so we had planned on visiting them in New Hampshire in May. Because of the pandemic, our plans have been put on hold. So I began to look for a gift to send Jaxon and in doing so became aware of a poetry book for children, The Lost Words, by Robert Macfarlane. It’s a collection of acrostic spell-poems, beautifully illustrated by Jackie Morris, each one devoted to a word removed from the Oxford Junior Dictionary.
Robert Macfarlane is a British writer and Fellow of Emmanuel College, Cambridge. He is best known for his books on landscape, nature, place, people, and language.
“Books, like landscapes, leave their marks in us. (…) Certain books, though, like certain landscapes, stay with us even when we left them, changing not just our weathers but our climates.”
Tanuri Ridge Rainbow (07/21/20) — Image by kenne
Balanced Stones — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Katelyn at Sunset (March 2017) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Waves of Joy” — Image by kenne
“Pools of Sorrow” — Image by kenne
A Visitor On The Patio (Immature Cooper’s Hawk) — Images by kenne
Two-Tailed Swallowtail Butterfly — Image by kenne
Cactus Blossom Twins — Image by kenne
“Goldfinches”– Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Another Cactus Blossom Morning” — Image by kenne
