Desert Chicory Art by kenne
I look at nature
Knowing its beauty is there
Because we see it.
— kenne
Desert Chicory Art by kenne
— kenne
Chicory Wildflower & Bee — Image by kenne
— Socrates
“Desert Chicory” Grunge Art by kenne
— Paulo Coelho
Desert Chicory — Image by kenne
— kenne
Desert Chicory Wildflower and Little Friends (Popcorn Flowers)– Image by kenne
— kenne
Desert Chicory and Desert Lupine Share A Rocky Place — Image by kenne
— kenne
Desert Chicory (February 14, 2014) — Image by kenne
— Steve Jobs
Desert Chicory, February 14, 2014 — Image by kenne
— kenne
Desert Chicory and Fairy Duster Wildflowers – Computer Painting — Image by kenne
Silverpuff and Desert Chicory — Image by kenne
They grow up together
maturing in the desert sun.
She became a
beautiful white flower —
chicory by name.
Soon one night
he blossomed
into a handsome
yellow flower
only to change
dramatically
by mid-morning
to a silver globe —
silverpuff by name.
Standing there alone
only she knew
of his conversion —
making his change
even more special.
Coupled together
to the earth
their offspring
scattered to the wind.
Soon the very elements
that nurtured
their beginning
will bring about
their ending.
— kenne
Desert Chicory — Image by kenne
Like a desert flower waiting for rain,
like a river-bank thirsting for the touch of pitchers,
like the dawn
longing for light;
and like a house,
like a house in ruins for want of a woman –
the exhausted ones of our times
need a moment to breathe,
need a moment to sleep,
in the arms of peace, in the arms of peace.
— Parween Faiz Zadah
Desert Chicory — Image by kenne
When I’m in New Orleans, I love to have chicory and coffee at Cafe Du Monde. But here in the Sonoran Desert, I love my chicory desert type — Desert Chicory. These beautiful desert flowers were captured along the Esperero Trail in Esperero Canyon on the 24th of February.
kenne
Show me a piece of land that God forgot—
a strip between an unused sidewalk, say,
and a bulldozed lot, rich in broken glass—
and there, July on, will be chicory,
its leggy hollow stems staggering skyward,
its leaves rough-hairy and lanceolate,
like pointed shoes too cheap for elves to wear,
its button-blooms the tenderest mauve-blue.
How good of it to risk the roadside fumes,
the oil-soaked heat reflected from asphalt,
and wretched earth dun-colored like cement,
too packed for any other seed to probe.
It sends a deep taproot (delicious, boiled),
is relished by all livestock, lends its leaves
to salads and cooked greens, but will not thrive
in cultivated soil: it must be free.
(Source: The Writer’s Almanac)
Desert Chicory with Fiddleneck friends — Images by kenne