Snow On The San Bernardino Mountains — Image by kenne
After a very rainy Thanksgiving Day here in Rancho Cucamonga, CA, we woke up to this mountain scene . . . Beautiful!
— kenne
Archive for the ‘southern California’ Tag
Snow On The San Bernardino Mountains 3 comments
Water Lily Blossoms 2 comments
Water Lily Blossoms — Image by kenne
Up through the water
I walk checking out angles
Shadows on the pond.
— kenne
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Off To The Races — Del Mar, California Leave a comment
Del Mar Racing Paddock Area (August 13, 2014) — Images by kenne
We have spent the last few days in the San Diego area. Since this is the summer racing season at Del Mar, and not having been there, we decided to go watch the horses. It’s and attractive racing facility — very California.
— kenne
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Thanksgiving Cigar 1 comment
“Thanksgiving Cigar” — Image by kenne
THANKSGIVING CIGAR
the table is clean
we are stuffed with food and drink
a cigar moment
— kenne
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Capturing The Moment — Swimming Pool Fun 8 comments
James, Justin and Chase Enjoy The Pool While In Southern California Last Week. — Image by kenne
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Capturing The Moment — Jacaranda Tree Blossoms Leave a comment
Jacaranda Tree Blossoms In Redlands, California — Images by kenne
Jacaranda trees
Shinning in the sun with its
Blue/purple blossoms.
— kenne
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Traveling I-10, Again 1 comment
“The Dining Room Table,” A Still Life — Images by kenne
In a little while we will be leaving Tucson, driving to San Bernardino to be with family as we celebrate the life of Virginia Chapman, Joy’s mother.
Since Virginia’s death, we have spent time reading Marie Howe’s powerful book of poems, “What the Living Do.” In a time of grief, her poems provide instruction for the living, one of which I share with those who follow this blog:
The Dream
I had a dream in the day:
I laid my father’s body down in a narrow boat
and sent him off along the riverbank with its cattails and grasses.
And the boat — it was made of bark and wood bent when it was wet —
took him to his burial finally.
But a day or two later I realized it was my self I wanted
to lay down, hands crossed, eyes closed. . . .
Oh, the light coming up from down there,
the sweet smell of the water — and finally, the sense of being carried
by a current I could not name or change.
— Marie Howe
