Archive for the ‘Sedona’ Tag
Sedona Fenceline — Image by kenne
The fence does not divide the land—
it simply stands there, patient,
while the red mountains behind it
keep their old counsel with the sky.
Wind moves through cedar and dust,
and even silence here
seems to have roots.
Black & White Image by kenne
Red Rock, Sedona
Below the cliffs,
an old tree lies—
roots exposed,
its body weathered gray
by seasons of wind and sun.
It seems less fallen
than resting,
a figure stretched beneath
the iron-red slope,
its limbs now gone.
And yet,
in the stillness,
the tree remains—
not defeated,
but folded back
into the silence
that bore it.
Blooming Yucca in Sedona — Image by kenne
Yucca bursts in bloom,
bees waltz through the silver stars—
summer sings in white.
The Red Rock Country of Sedona on a Cloudy Day — Image by kenne
Sedona Snapshots (April 22, 2018) by kenne
A week ago today we began a short trip that would take us to several places we have been before, the exception being Monument Valley in the Navajo Nation. Heading north on I-10, we took I-17 north to Flagstaff out of Pheinox with a little detour over to Sedona and the Oak Creek Canyon. After a brief stop in Sedona, we began the beautiful drive on the twisting Oak Creek Canyon 89A highway.
Our next stop was Flagstaff, just long enough to top off the gas tank, before heading on the Tuba City located in the Painted Desert on the Navajo Nation, where we planned to spend the night and check out the old Tuba City Trading Post.
— kenne
Gibraltar Rock, Sedona — Image by kenne
Hiking the Air Port Loop Trail, Sedona, Arizona — Images by kenne
(Click on any of the images to see larger view in a slideshow format.)
“Don’t Touch!” — Image by kenne
you’re probably wondering
why I took this photograph,
well, so am I –
nothing better to do, I guess,
other than window-shop
along the historic
main street of Sedona,
when I saw this manikin
of an old card shark
who had once
been a young man,
now too old to stand up,
too old to dress himself
and too old to care.
the truth is, it was the
“Don’t Touch!” sign
held there on his vest
by a safety-pin, since he
was also too old to touch,
a problem that wouldn’t be
if he were an old wooden Indian.
— kenne
Raven On A Fence Post In Red Rock Country — Computer Painting by kenne
“Raven Model” — Image by kenne
There’s a lot of cicada noise In Sedona. — Image by kenne
It’s not ringing in your ears
you hear, it’s
horny cicadas singing
their hearts out.
— kenne
Many Selfies Were Being Taken at the Tlaquepaque Arts & Crafts Village in Sedona
— iPhone images by kenne
a selfie here
a selfie there
here
there and
everywhere.
— kenne
Sedona Panorama from the Airport Loop Trail (June 13, 2015) — Image by kenne
On my recent trip to Sedona I was using both my D200 and D800 Nikons. I had a 12-28 Nikon DX lens on the D200. The above panorama was created by merging two 28mm, f/18, 1/60, ISO 100 images in Photoshop.
I have had the D200, which has a 10.2-MP CCD image sensor, for ten years and it continues to be a real workhorse. Usually, when hiking I carry one camera, the D800 with a 28-300 zoom lens. Because of the variety of views on this trail, I carried both cameras, which allowed me to capture this panorama image — thanks to Photoshop.
kenne

West Sedona Panorama Nikon D200 12mm Lens f/9 1/320 ISO 100 (June 13, 2015)
West Sedona Panorama Nikon D800 28 mm Lens f/22 1/160 ISO 200 (June 13, 2015)
— Images by kenne
observe the raven
drinking among the breakage
at Tlaquepaque.

“Raven’s Drinking Fountain” — Images by kenne
where courtyards offer
a cuisine of art and soul
under cottonwoods.
— kenne
One of the Tlaquepaque Courtyards — Image by kenne
Morning Meditation — Computer Art by kenne
“Give me silence, water, hope . . .”
— Pablo Neruda
######
I don’t believe in age.
All old people
carry
in their eyes,
a child,
and children,
at times
observe us with the
eyes of wise ancients.
Shall we measure
life
in meters or kilometers
or months?
How far since you were born?
How long
must you wander
until
like all men
instead of walking on its surface
we rest below the earth?
— from Ode to Age by Pablo Neruda