Archive for the ‘Mount Lemmon’ Tag
Mushrooms — Image by kenne
I look through the hole and saw a landscape like that behind
our home, uncared for, and wild. I moved back a few steps
because I sensed vaguely that something was about to happen.
— from Childhood and Poetry, by Pablo Neruda
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Aspens On Mt. Lemmon — Image by kenne
Nature’s Way
Golden leaves twist in the breeze
Above the trail near the creek.
I desire to capture every moment
Knowing soon they will fall
To their place of resting
No longer twisting in the sunlight —
Continuing nature’s way.
— kenne
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The Yellow Columbine, My Summer Icon — Computer Art Image by kenne
Summer has pasted
Still one image stays behind
Yellow Columbine.
— kenne
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Sabino Canyon with Fog in the Valley and Snow on Mt. Lemmon (12/12/07) —
This image by naturalist Phil Bentley captures the essence of Walt Whitman’s poem,”Kosmos”.
Kosmos
BY WALT WHITMAN
Who includes diversity and is Nature,
Who is the amplitude of the earth, and the coarseness and sexuality of the earth, and the great charity of the earth and the equilibrium also,
Who has not look’d forth from the windows the eyes for nothing, or whose brain held audience with messengers for nothing,
Who contains believers and disbelievers, who is the most majestic lover,
Who holds duly his or her triune proportion of realism, spiritualism, and of the æsthetic or intellectual,
Who having consider’d the body finds all its organs and parts good,
Who, out of the theory of the earth and of his or her body understands by subtle analogies all other theories,
The theory of a city, a poem, and of the large politics of these States;
Who believes not only in our globe with its sun and moon, but in other globes with their suns and moons,
Who, constructing the house of himself or herself, not for a day but for all time, sees races, eras, dates, generations,
The past, the future, dwelling there, like space, inseparable together.
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Color Me Red — Image by kenne
Colors are changing
As rain drops still cover leaves
After forest rains.
— kenne
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Color Thee Green to Red and Gray — Image by kenne
XII.
Autumn is seeking the Winter coma
How quickly the years bud fades away
Bug ratty or Autumn burnt, singed
There are brown holes in Summer clothes
No longer green, they’re gone ash gray
A brumal vacuum inserts itself in the air
And how much of a seer must one be
To read Winter encroachment in all this
I can flip a coin and I cannot predict
Heads or tails with any accuracy but
I do know that the rising coin will fall
This much at least I can predict unerringly
— from Autumn Variations, by SPMackin
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Moss Sporophytes On A Log In A Mountain Forest — Image by kenne
moss sporophytes dance
alternating phases in
terrestrial life
— kenne
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Leaves On A Log — Image by kenne
Leaves fall on a log
Adding color to its brown
Soon to be brown too.
— kenne
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Fall leaves and moss on an old tree stump, Mt. Lemmon. — Image by kenne
these people of the air
these people of the wind,
has a sense of where to go and how,
how to go north north-by-west north,
till they came to one wooden pole,
till they were home again.
— from The People, Yes, by Carl Sandburg
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Bear Wallow Trail, Mt. Lemmon (October 21, 2014) — Image by kenne
Mountain trails have become
my Chautauqua path
where nature is my teacher,
where I learn to see things
in their immediate appearance (Beauty)
and the relationship to their
underlying form (Science).
Each is a part of reality,
one more surface,
the other more effect.
Nature teaches us to think
in a harmonious way
blending the two realities,
not separate one from the other.
To see them as a
dichotomous vision
results in our reality
being incomplete, false.
To accept the false dichotomy is easy,
our choices are comfortable —
black or white.
Thought that blends the two
often generates hostility from both sides.
For many, we learn to live
with the hostility by listening to nature
through which we can practice
creative intercourse among peoples.
— kenne
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Mt. Lemmon, Santa Catalina Mountains, October, 2014 — Images by kenne
(Click on any of the images to see larger view in a slideshow format.)
Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them —
The summer flowers depart —
Sit still — as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart.
— from “The Autumn,” by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Mountain Stream (Mt. Lemmon) — Images by kenne
Rain kissed over night
Leaves falling near the stream
Twisting and turning
Under the forest canopy
For now blocking the morning sun
From brightening the new
Canvass of fall colors.
— kenne
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Claw marks made by bear foraging for insects — Image by kenne
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Fall Colors In Black and White — Image by kenne
Lines, tones, contrasts
Are what make an image art —
Color is pretty.
— kenne
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“Boxed and Framed For Fall Delivery” — Image by kenne
A POEM IS A MOUNTAIN
a poem is a mountain
high above the city,
a place of contrasts,
filled with periods of
rain, snow and drought.
a poem is a mountain
filled with expressions of time,
filled with seasons
filled with life and death.
a poem is a mountain
growing old without pity
where God touches earth
bringing forth new life
changing earth’s colors.
a poem is a mountain
where rocks mark places,
silence bringing on sound,
directing the eye
to things not seen —
only then does the
— kenne
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Becoming is Superior to Being 