Sunset Near Tanque Verde Wash (09/15/11) — Image by kenne
Such a beautiful tree — so representative of life. Yet, we often see beauty only in the foliage and blossoms nature provides in one of life’s stages. Why?
Beauty is everywhere — there is beauty in death, marking the stage so important in the cycles of life.
This tree (image of) is amazing, a sculpture in the face of the sun, containing the shapes we use to design our places in this world.
What image do you present in the face of the sun? Does it add? Does it subtract?
Mt. Lemmon, San Pedro Valley Vista Before the Big Horn Fire — Image by kenne
“You can’t divide the country up into sections and have one rule for one section and one rule for another, and you can’t encourage people’s prejudices. You have to appeal to people’s best instincts, not their worst ones. You may win an election or so by doing the other, but it does a lot of harm to the country.”
— Jon Meacham, The Soul of America: The Battle for Our Better Angels
A Full Moon Night In The Sonoran Desert — Photo-Artistry by kenne
A Clear Midnight
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless, Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done, Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best. Night, sleep, death and the stars.
In April one seldom feels cheerful; Dry stones, sun and dust make me fearful; Clairvoyantes distress me, Commuters depress me– Met Stetson and gave him an earful.
II
She sat on a mighty fine chair, Sparks flew as she tidied her hair; She asks many questions, I make few suggestions– Bad as Albert and Lil–what a pair!
III
The Thames runs, bones rattle, rats creep; Tiresias fancies a peep– A typist is laid, A record is played– Wei la la. After this it gets deep.
IV
A Phoenician named Phlebas forgot About birds and his business–the lot, Which is no surprise, Since he’d met his demise And been left in the ocean to rot.
V
No water. Dry rocks and dry throats, Then thunder, a shower of quotes From the Sanskrit and Dante. Da. Damyata. Shantih. I hope you’ll make sense of the notes.
— Wendy Cope
(The author was inspired by T. S. Eliot’s, The Waste Land.)
Jim and John Walking to the Broadway Trailhead In Saguaro National Park. — Images by kenne
Yesterday morning and this morning, it’s been cool enough to consider hiking in the desert. So, when Tom called yesterday and asked me to go hiking, I felt a rush of energy pinned up since the spring. Normally the hot desert days drive us up to Mt. Lemmon to hit the mountain trails. However, this summer, the trails have been closed because of the Big Horn Fire. So, this morning Jim, John, Tom, and I met at the usual meeting place outside the Bear Canyon branch of the Pima County Library to mask-up and carpool to one of the many park trailheads.
Here in Tucson, we are not currently experiencing the orange sky the forest fires have created in California. But, we have a haze covered sky coming from the many fires in the western states, making it easy to look directly at the sun.
Signs of our prolonged drought are everywhere. Even normally, drought-resistant plants are struggling.
We spent about 2 1/2 hours hiking various trails and washes in the Park. My friends have been hiking these trails much longer than I, and if you are wondering, I’m the youngest of us.
Tree by the Tanque Verde Wash — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Whatever you hold in your mind will tend to occur in your life. If you continue to believe as you have always believed, you will continue to act as you have always acted. If you continue to act as you have always acted, you will continue to receive what you have always received. If you want different results in your life or your work, all you have to do is change your mind.”
My skin is the cover of my body. It keeps me bound to my surroundings. It is the leather over my spine. It is the silk over the corneas of my eyes. Where I am hairless, at the lips and groin, there is pinkness and vulnerability. Despite a protective covering of horny skin, there is no such problem with my fingers, whose ridges and grooves are so gratifying to both the lover and the criminologist. I think perhaps the entire history of me is here—viper of memory, stab of regret, red light of oblivion. Hell would be living without them.
“A regal horned lizard looks on calmly as a hungry coyote comes near. All of a sudden—splat! The crafty lizard squirts the coyote with a stream of blood from its eyes. Believe it or not, this reptile can shoot the gory goo three feet or more! And that’s just one of its clever tricks.”
“If you cannot trust yourself, you cannot even trust your mistrust of yourself – so that without this underlying trust in the whole system of nature you are simply paralyzed.”
This summer, the Big Horn Fire caused so much damage to the National Forest in the Santa Catalina Mountains remains closed to the public. Therefore, hiking and photographing wildflowers in the Catalinas will not be in 2020, which provides a good excuse to revisit some wildflower photos over the past ten summers.
Field of Western Sneezeweed Along Mt. Lemmon’s Meadow Trail (08/21/12) — Image by kenne
Bur Marigold Wildflower (Bidens aurea) Blooms in September and October in the Santa Catalina Mountains — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Considered the most spectacular of the genus Bidens, the Bur marigold is not a very common plant. “Bidens” means “having two teeth,” which references the hairlike appendages on the fruits. A deciduous perennial forb.
