Archive for the ‘Black & White Photography’ Tag
“Watching Time Go By” (Nicaragua, 2007) — Image by kenne
Muddy rut-carved roads
in the Nicaraguan mountains
we reach a village in a 4X4
where women and children
wait out the day, men having
left before daylight in
backs of pickup trucks.
A young woman stands
in the open doorway
I try not to see her as
an object to be photographed
for my travel photo journal,
instead to capture a story
to be told by the viewer.
— kenne
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Black & White Image by kenne
Summer monsoon sky
Cast shadows over Push Ridge
Mountain wilderness.
— kenne
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Image by kenne
friends hiking Box Camp
naturalists lead the way
for fellow hikers
always stay on the marked trail
black and white in shades of gray
-- kenne
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Bug Springs Trail Landscape — Black & White Image by kenne
Silent knowledge —
the spirit is enlightened of itself.
Contemplate the void:
this world exceeds stillness.
— from Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems, by Gary Snyder
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“The Picture” (December 10, 2016) — Image by kenne
The picture was there in my mind,
it always had been.
To capture it I must first find it —
suddenly, the scene was set
repeating what was now scripted.
— kenne
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Windswept Grasslands in the Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne
Taking inspiration from the likes of Lewis Carroll, Robert Frost and Carl Sandburg.
Branches reach into the dark sky
over windswept grasslands,
directing our eyes and ears
to the relationship between
the living and the dead.
— kenne
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Black and White Sisters — Image by kenne (October 2006)
14
One Sister have I in our house,
And one, a hedge away.
There’s only one recorded,
But both belong to me.
One came the road that I came—
And wore my last year’s gown—
The other, as a bird her nest,
Builded our hearts among.
She did not sing as we did—
It was a different tune—
Herself to her a music
As Bumble bee of June.
Today is far from Childhood—
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter—
Which shortened all the miles—
And still her hum
The years among,
Deceives the Butterfly;
Still in her Eye
The Violets lie
Mouldered this many May.
I spilt the dew—
But took the morn—
I chose this single star
From out the wide night’s numbers—
Sue – forevermore!
— Emily Dickinson
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