Desert rays of sun scintillate and diffuse,
Scrambling waves of lines and light.
A mindbending apparition, a mirage,
Yet somehow our human lenses
Auto-correct to make sense of it all.
3/7/12
Solar Shimmers Surreal
Valley of the Sun...
Desert rays of sun scintillate and diffuse,
Scrambling waves of lines and light.
A mindbending apparition, a mirage,
Yet somehow our human lenses
Auto-correct to make sense of it all.
Desert rays of sun scintillate and diffuse,
Scrambling waves of lines and light.
A mindbending apparition, a mirage,
Yet somehow our human lenses
Auto-correct to make sense of it all.
3/6/12
3/5/12
3/2/12
Stamen of Aloe Vera
Bursting fertilizing seeds into orbit...
Organ of reproduction, filament and anther.
An Aloe Vera stamen as thread of the warp,
Stands and releases its labyrinthine pollen grains
To the atmosphere for animal kingdom and weather,
In mode of distribution paradoxical and perplexing.
Serving as propagation of the salving medicinal succulent.
Organ of reproduction, filament and anther.
An Aloe Vera stamen as thread of the warp,
Stands and releases its labyrinthine pollen grains
To the atmosphere for animal kingdom and weather,
In mode of distribution paradoxical and perplexing.
Serving as propagation of the salving medicinal succulent.
3/1/12
2/29/12
This Ain't Pretty
Trash collecting at Grand Canal Gate 1...
The Grand Canal runs between 7th Street and 7th Avenue south of Camelback Road and just north of Campbell Avenue and has served as the water source since 1878 for the historic central Phoenix neighborhood I live in. It is the granddaddy of nine canals that serve the Valley of the Sun and a key component of the Salt River Project. All along the canal systems are walkways, bike paths and routes that even if unpaved or not formally constructed serve as a route for getting enjoyment and exercise on foot or bicycle. This is trash and associated scum tossed into the canal that is collecting at Gate 1 where it is held until collected to keep from clogging the entire water system.
2/27/12
Palm Fronds Splaying
Slightly shielding solar sheen...
Sun beaming through the palm royal
Fashioning a tinctured silhouette,
A cast of blues and greens and amber
Painting the sailcloth sky.
2/25/12
The Wonder and Advantage
Of being that man of a certain age...
Wherein I openly reflect out loud not caring what others may think.
Here I am at that point in life where it is too obvious to ignore that I've become "a man of a certain age." Fortunately it doesn't concern me much since it only jars me into recognition for rare brief periods such as the past few weeks where for the first time in five years I've had some minor physical problems. Although the anatomical disruption is still not completely resolved for the most part it has already passed. Although not definitively diagnosed it's fairly certain that it is the variety that comes with approaching the sixth decade of living and nothing serious or long term. My sense is that due to taking generally pretty good care of myself my entire life things will occur that can be coped with. It's a simple welcome to advancing in life when body parts occasionally annoyingly twist mildly while wonderfully most mental stress and worries uncurl into a lack of concern over them.
Somehow I seem to have escaped a lot of the psychological and mental matters that plague a lot of boomers hitting this mark in life. Frankly I think a lot of those are a result of decisions people consciously and fully made among our panoply of choices and some of them have brought consequences. My hope is younger people observe this and avoid the pitfalls and choose the better options among those of us still around. One great advantage of arriving at this point relatively intact is not really caring too much what others think. A lot of things I once worried about in the social realm no longer cross my mind and I have a definite comfort with myself that didn't arrive until over a decade or so ago. There is also the wonder of wisdom and the sense of being at certain places before and knowing how to deal with them.
This photograph of a wizened tree stump among broken rocks and boulders of ages surrounded by wild flowers reminds me of how grand aging can be. It is not hollow but still full of space to be filled with all sorts of knowledge, emotion and enlightenment. It symbolizes being surrounded by both the known friends who are solid as rocks, as well as the beauty of new blooms of young people and ideas among dead thistles that will revive in season to keep the years full as they go by.
Wherein I openly reflect out loud not caring what others may think.
Here I am at that point in life where it is too obvious to ignore that I've become "a man of a certain age." Fortunately it doesn't concern me much since it only jars me into recognition for rare brief periods such as the past few weeks where for the first time in five years I've had some minor physical problems. Although the anatomical disruption is still not completely resolved for the most part it has already passed. Although not definitively diagnosed it's fairly certain that it is the variety that comes with approaching the sixth decade of living and nothing serious or long term. My sense is that due to taking generally pretty good care of myself my entire life things will occur that can be coped with. It's a simple welcome to advancing in life when body parts occasionally annoyingly twist mildly while wonderfully most mental stress and worries uncurl into a lack of concern over them.
Somehow I seem to have escaped a lot of the psychological and mental matters that plague a lot of boomers hitting this mark in life. Frankly I think a lot of those are a result of decisions people consciously and fully made among our panoply of choices and some of them have brought consequences. My hope is younger people observe this and avoid the pitfalls and choose the better options among those of us still around. One great advantage of arriving at this point relatively intact is not really caring too much what others think. A lot of things I once worried about in the social realm no longer cross my mind and I have a definite comfort with myself that didn't arrive until over a decade or so ago. There is also the wonder of wisdom and the sense of being at certain places before and knowing how to deal with them.
This photograph of a wizened tree stump among broken rocks and boulders of ages surrounded by wild flowers reminds me of how grand aging can be. It is not hollow but still full of space to be filled with all sorts of knowledge, emotion and enlightenment. It symbolizes being surrounded by both the known friends who are solid as rocks, as well as the beauty of new blooms of young people and ideas among dead thistles that will revive in season to keep the years full as they go by.
2/24/12
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