Late Bloomer (Azalea) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
In early spring the south and gulf coast are abound with azalea blossoms. When we moved to the Arizona desert from the gulf coast, we brought along a potted azalea plant. Each spring our little plant had many blossoms. However this spring there were no blossoms. But much to our surprise in September one blossom emerged. — kenne
Lake Robbins Bridge on a Foggy/Frosty Morning– Photo Artistry by kenne (March 14, 2003)
Enough sun breaks through
The foggy/frosty morning
Misty white to gray.
— kenne
The Woodlands Artfest (April 2009) — Digital Art by kenne
— kenne
Foggy Morning (The Woodlands, Texas, March 2003) — Image by kenne
— Carl Sandburg
“Yardwork” — Art by kenne
“yardwork”
Days of Running are Getting Fewer with Each Passing Day (April 2010)
Muddy Trails Bash 5k — Photos by Joy
My running has become walking 5k each day. Trying hard to hang on to what I still have.
My current goal is to not become one of the stumbling undead.
By the way, there are some things that do change for the better —
I no longer wear white crew socks.
— kenne
This poem was written by a 19-year-old English army officer, Charles Hamilton Sorley, during World War I.
The Song of the Ungirt Runners
We swing ungirded hips
And lighten’d are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.
The waters of the seas
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause
’Neath the big bare sky.
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it
Through the broad bright land.
Morning Walk in The Woodlands Texas, 2008 — Collage by kenne
Darkness in transition
Embracing the solitude
Pondering the moment
Filled with emotions
Posturing the thoughts
Consoled by pod music
Tempering the walk
Framed on the cover
Of the Rolling Stone
In the shadows of reality
Light in transition
Sharing the solitude
With morning shadows
Appearing in the light
Vanishing in the darkness
Stepping in alternation
Moving to the front
Moving to the back
Dancing to the music
In the shadows of reality
Kenne
