Hiking the Italian Springs Trail (April, 2012) — Image by kenne
bushed
a trail cursed and charmed taking a breather in solitude and shade alligator junipers mountain pines overlooking a big sky pass scrambling time and seasons whence we came where we went Redington road to the plateau beneath Mica mountain summit till you get there yourself it remains our paradise sharing our wanderlust in this virtual world
— kenne
(This hike was one of many I did with my old hiking buddy, Tom Markey, who passed awayAugust 17, 2022.)
Moonrise Over The Black Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne
We reached Mica Mountain as the sun was setting and set up camp two hours out from Manning Camp; our expected goal where we would get water and spend the evening. However, we did not have enough water to spend two nights in the mountains, so we decided we would turn back in the morning. Before setting up camp we watched the sunset and the moonrise.
Cold out! Feels like winter as we crawl into our sleeping bags. It must be the altitude. The full moon provided light, no warmth. The night was long. The tarp above us was attached at only three corners since Tom wanted one loose to flop in the wind, making noise that would keep the bears away.
After a long night of wind-driven noise and cold temperatures, we broke camp early to arrive back at the trailhead before the expected temperatures in the mid-nineties. As we reached a lower elevation, we could contact Tom’s wife, Pat, to give her our expected arrival time at the trailhead. Once we got our stuff in the car, all we could think of was going to Risky Business for a cold beer and French fries with mayo.
Three years ago this past August, Matt, Ty, Tom, and I were getting ready to get on the Tuichi River in the Bolivian Amazon. It was an adventure of a lifetime that was being recalled as we gathered at the Quaker Meeting House in Tucson for a memorial service for Tom Markey — sharing happy times in a moment of sadness. (August 20, 2019)– Image by kenne
“Time present and time past Are both perhaps present in time future, And time future contained in time past. If all time is eternally present All time is unredeemable. What might have been is an abstraction Remaining a perpetual possibility Only in a world of speculation. What might have been and what has been Point to one end, which is always present. Footfalls echo in the memory Down the passage which we did not take Towards the door we never opened Into the rose-garden. My words echo Thus, in your mind. But to what purpose Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves I do not know. Other echoes Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?”
Tom Taking A Moment to Rest Before Setting Up Camp on Mica Mountain (April 2012) — Image by kenne
Remembering So Much, Yet So Little
We walked together as brothers His a shuffled pace totaling Many unnumbered miles Remembering so much, yet so little
Have known him for the last ten years Reminding me of my brother, It seemed like a lifetime Remembering so much, yet so little
When we first met We were in a hiking group For me, all were strangers Remembering so much, yet so little
He had that something We all feel but can’t explain As with the wistfulness of used books Remembering so much, yet so little
Hiking dusty trails, stirred only by our steps, A soft breeze unable to lift The dust above our boots Remembering so much, yet so little
Sharing a love of the wild To hear sounds, see vistas In the desert and sky islands Remembering so much, yet so little
He was born with a feel for the moment Making use of the incidentals Whether invited or not Remembering so much, yet so little
An eye for beauty and form Where nothing is perfect And everything is perfect. Remembering so much, yet so little
Always ready to go farther afield Looking for new trails – such as The Hidden Pasture Trail Remembering so much, yet so little
Meticulously researching new adventures Was a hobby driven by the belief One knows the country through direct contact Remembering so much, yet so little
Possessing a diverse love of life Sharing stories of youthful conquests As the sunsets only to be replaced by a full moon Remembering so much, yet so little
Dare not wave the punctual tissue of farewell He would reply with an insouciant shrug Therefore, I drink to you, my brother Remembering so much, yet so little
For this is a path we will all take On the Hidden Pasture Trail It’s all part of nature’s plan Remembering so much, yet so little
Tom Walking to Mission San Xavier del Bac in Tucson — Image by kenne
My hiking buddy, Tom Markey, has been home from the hospital and rehab for about ten days. This past Sunday, I took him for a short walk in the Sweetwater Wetlands Park, and yesterday he called me to see if I would go with him and Pat to Mission San Xavier del Bac — he wanted to light some candles ahead of his third chemo session today.
Tom is a Quaker, so I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to ask him, “What’s a Quaker doing lighting candles in a Catholic Church?” He replied, “I’ll take whatever help I can get — what have I got to lose.” Tom is a very spiritual man.
While at the mission, I also lit some candles for Joy’s younger sister, Janna, who passed away yesterday from a cardiac arrest. May she rest in peace.
Little Colorado River (June 2021) — HDR Image by kenne
Last June, some of us got out of Tucson’s heat and spent a few days in the White Mountains of eastern Arizona.
My good friend, Tom Markey, and his wife Pat were with us. We spent time walking and fishing in the Fort Apache Indian Reservation.
Late in 2021, Tom was diagnosed with Lymphoma. Last week he received his first chemo session, to which he had an adverse reaction, but doing better now. The tumor in his arm has already reduced in size. So we are already talking about going back up to the mountain stream pictured above — We will return!
— kenne
Tom Markey Fly Fishing on the Little Colorado River — HDR Image by kenne
Hiking the Ciénega Creek Trail with Friend,Tom Markey — Images by kenne (Click on Any Image for Larger View with Descriptions In a Slideshow Formate.)
Ciénega Creek Trail (English: “Hundred Springs Creek” or “Marsh Creek”) is an intermittent stream located within the Cienega Creek Natural Preserve, and is one of the most intact riparian corridors left in the state, represents one of the last perennial streams in southeastern Arizona. It originates in the Canelo Hills and continues northwest about 50 miles (80 km) to an area just outside Tucson, where it becomes known as Pantano Wash. Pantano Wash continues through Tucson and eventually connects with the Rillito River.
Gila Topminnow, once the most widespread fish in the Gila River basin (including Santa Cruz River), the Gila topminnow now claims Cienega Creek as its last stronghold in the United States. This guppy-like fish is good at thriving in less than ideal water conditions and loves to feast on mosquito larva. — Source: Pima County
Last fall our friend Tom Markey and his son went on a fishing trip in the Bijagos Archipelago off the coast of Guinea-Bissau. The Bijago inhabit most of the 25 Bissagos Islands constituting a small West African tribe of approximately 22,000.
It is not unusual for some of the islands to have a matriarchal society where women possess all the power organize themselves into associations, which manage the economy, socialwelfare, and the law. This matriarchal society may have resulted from there being two types of priests, female and male. The female, calledOquinca, interprets the designs of the Supreme Being. TheOquinca is named by the king or chief and may temporarily replace a deceased king until the new king is installed.
While in the Bijagos Archipelago Tom purchased one of the traditional wooden statues of two women, one standing on the head of the other. For centuries the Bijago worshiped wood statues. To ensure its safe return in his luggage, Tom had the wood carving cut into two pieces.
Upon his return to Tucson, Tom ask me to photograph the Bijago statuary. Questions of form, meaning, function and most all the context within which traditional Bijago statuary came tobe remainwithout answers.
— kenne
(Reference: “Traditional Bijago Statuary,” by Robert C. Helmholz)
Brittlebush Blooming Everywhere In Picacho Peak State Park — Images by kenne Friend, Tom Markey and I spent a recent morning hiking in the Park and so much is in full bloom.
This posting focuses on brittlebush images with many more wildflowers to come. Click here to see more brittlebush images in a slideshow format.
Morning Hike In Picacho Peak State Park (February 26, 2015) — Images by kenne
One of the best places to see spring wildflowers in southern Arizona is at Picacho Peak State Park, so early yesterday morning Tom Markey and I drove up I-10 for an hour to the park, not to hike to the top of the peak, but to hike the west trail to observe and photograph the wildflowers. The rains this winter have not only produced beautiful wildflowers, but made the desert very green, which adds contrast to the views. This posting is meant to give you a feel for our hiking into the sun on the backside of Picacho Peak setting the stage for wildflower photos to be posted later.
Images by kenne (This posting id dedicated to my brother, Tom Turner and my close friend, Tom Markey.)
Munford & Sons is a group I love to listen to, and one of my favorite songs is “Timshel,” which means “thou mayest” in Hebrew and is an important symbol in the novel East of Eden by John Steinbeck.
“But the Hebrew word, timshel—’Thou mayest’— gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.”
Timshel is everywhere in life, what existence is all about — “thou mayest” gives meaning to our thoughts and actions, the source of becoming emotionally attached to the world. Life begins to lose its significance as meaning becomes limited and bound.
“Though it seems that I know that I know, what I would like to see is the ‘I’ that knows ‘me’ when I know that I know that I know.”
— The Book, by Alan Watts
kenne
“Timshel”
Cold is the water It freezes your already cold mind Already cold, cold mind And death is at your doorstep And it will steal your innocence But it will not steal your substance But you are not alone in this And you are not alone in this As brothers, we will stand, and we’ll hold your hand Hold your hand And you are the mother The mother of your baby child The one to whom you gave life And you have your choices And these are what make man great His ladder to the stars But you are not alone in this And you are not alone in this As brothers, we will stand, and we’ll hold your hand Hold your hand And I will tell the night Whisper, “Lose your sight” But I can’t move the mountains for you
Last Sunday (November 4, 2012), Tom and I hiked the Baby Jesus Trail near Catalina State Park. This was a very enjoyable hike looking for the Baby Jesus rock without any luck. But, was able to get a lot of photos, which are shared on this posting.
kenne
(Click on any of the thumbnails for a larger view of the images.)
This may be the baby Jesus rock — Can you see baby Jesus?
Bijago Statuary — Image by kenne
Brittlebush Blooming Everywhere In Picacho Peak State Park — Images by kenne
Computer Painting
Morning Hike In Picacho Peak State Park (February 26, 2015) — Images by kenne
Becoming is Superior to Being 
Tom Turner
Tom Markey
Images by kenne
(This posting id dedicated to my brother, Tom Turner and my close friend, Tom Markey.)
Munford & Sons is a group I love to listen to, and one of my favorite songs is “Timshel,” which means “thou mayest” in Hebrew and is an important symbol in the novel East of Eden by John Steinbeck.
“But the Hebrew word, timshel—’Thou mayest’— gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.”
Timshel is everywhere in life, what existence is all about — “thou mayest” gives meaning to our thoughts and actions, the source of becoming emotionally attached to the world. Life begins to lose its significance as meaning becomes limited and bound.
“Though it seems that I know that I know, what I would like to see is the ‘I’ that knows ‘me’ when I know that I know that I know.”
— The Book, by Alan Watts
kenne
“Timshel”
Cold is the water
It freezes your already cold mind
Already cold, cold mind
And death is at your doorstep
And it will steal your innocence
But it will not steal your substance
But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As brothers, we will stand, and we’ll hold your hand
Hold your hand
And you are the mother
The mother of your baby child
The one to whom you gave life
And you have your choices
And these are what make man great
His ladder to the stars
But you are not alone in this
And you are not alone in this
As brothers, we will stand, and we’ll hold your hand
Hold your hand
And I will tell the night
Whisper, “Lose your sight”
But I can’t move the mountains for you
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