
Broad-billed Hummingbird — Image by kenne

Broad-billed Hummingbird — Image by kenne

Storms Over The Catalinas Viewed from Our Patio — Image by kenne

Tucson Sunset — Image by kenne

Photographing Hummingbirds — Image by kenne
A hummingbird may arrive or it may not.
The camera remains, patient and indifferent.
Photography often resembles this arrangement:
a machine prepared for a moment that cannot be commanded.
The image, when it comes, will seem instantaneous.
Yet it will be the product of waiting, of expectation,
and of the photographer’s quiet belief that significance
may reveal itself in a fraction of a second.

Bottle Brush Bush Blossom — Image by kenne
The bottle brush blooms as if it remembers another country. Its scarlet flowers hang from the branches like tiny brushes dipped in paint, each one catching sunlight and holding it a moment longer than the day allows. Hummingbirds arrive without invitation. They know what I sometimes forget—that beauty does not announce itself. It waits in the yard, patient as an old relative, until someone finally looks.

Rainbow Over Tanuri Ridge (08/17/26) — Image by kenne
The Rainbow

Broad-billed Hummingbird at Nector Feeder -- Image by kenne
The feeder swings lightly in morning air.
A hummingbird hovers,
tiny engine of wings and hunger,
pausing just long enough
to remind me that beauty
rarely waits for permission
to be noticed.

Curve-billed Thraster on an Ocotillo limb — Image by kenne

Wild Senna On the Slope Behind Our House — Image by kenne


Fiery Skipper Butterfly — Image by kenne
— kenne

Cooper’s Hawk in the Patio Olive Tree Near the Bird Feeder– Image by kenne
— kenne

Monsoon Rain Clouds as Soon from Our Patio (August) — Image by kenne
— kenne

Duende speaks without permission — Image by kenne
— kenne
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vI72kyy2Ius&list=RDvI72kyy2Ius&start_radio=1

Gila Woodpecker — Photo-artistry by kenne
Gila Woodpecker
comes in loud,
like a drunk at noon,
runs the little birds off,
takes what isn’t his—
sweet red from
the humminbird glass.
I don’t blame him.
world’s built that way—
noise wins,
beauty keeps its distance.
still,
I raise my coffee,
to the bastard.
— kenne