Photographic and poetic meanderings along the countryside or while flying an airplane.
Except as noted, all images copyrighted by and should be attributed to E B Hawley.
I had become many eons ago a traveling literary gnome, inquisitive about places I had and had not visited,
walking the same paths of peoples from the past, through places once grand and still grand,
photographing images that now show me the places about which I still dream . . .
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Flinging Bird Seed at Once
I felt delighted to see a flock of Redwing Blackbirds visit my bird feeders yesterday, plus finches, juncos, sparrows, bluejays, and robins. I watched the gang of Whitewinged Doves with some trepidation, for it was an ever-growing population of doves -- Whitewinged, Inca, Eurasian Collared, and Mourning -- that made me cease replenishing my bird feeders. For two years now I have not fed the birds, and yet, the Whitewinged roost in the nearby trees. I hope that their numbers will remain a handful, as they seem now, and that they do not lord it over the little birds.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
A White Christmas Indeed!
Christmas Lights After the Blizzard
When the streets became passable after the blizzard,
My Mr. Mallory and I drove around to take pictures of the lights.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Good-bye, Bob, and Thank You
http://rlhtribute.com/
Robert Howard, Congressional Medals of Honor (three times), Purple Heart (eight times).
Robert Howard, Congressional Medals of Honor (three times), Purple Heart (eight times).
Christmas Eve Snow
Hodge was game for a romp in the slushy snow, willing to pose for the camera.
Ducks in flight during the heavy snowfall. Our morning began with pleasant rain
in the early morning, then turned to large snowflakes around eight o'clock.
The wind blew about forty miles per hour.
Saint Francis.
Hodge's sponteneity exemplifies the reason why I need to be ready with my camera and its settings.
Later, in the park, a German Shepherd loped across eleven inches of snow.
Children ride along Hamilton Boulevard.
An SUV's wheels turned ineffectively on the snowy driveway.
Shoveling snow off the driveway.
A Red-tailed Hawk disappears beyond a tree along Martin Street.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Scissortail
I'm not allowed to fly it alone without my license or an FAA instructor, so I taxied up and down the airport all afternoon. Passengers in the terminal of Municipal Airport undoubtedly wondered what that little plane was doing taxiing all over the place and around parked jets. Tomorrow, finally, my flight instructor, Jim, will have recovered sufficiently from ankle surgery for us to resume our lessons.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Miss D's Hawk
Miss D from Animal Control brought a fatally injured hawk to the Wild Bird Rescue Center.
The odd framing has to do with the Nikon lens 18-200mm 1:3.5-5.6 ED DX on my full frame D700. I think, though, that the effect makes for intriguing framing of a remarkable bird.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
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Let Lovely Turn of Phrase Begin
JMHawley Gave Me a Kiss to Build a Dream On
Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.
Listen, will you? I think that . . . literature, poetry, music and love make the world go round . . . while mathematics explains things; I fill my life with them, then go walking in snowy woods.
Let us go then, you and I
like two etherized patients floating
through life, together feeling prufrockian.
DDB Jr. makes my world go 'round; during his absence, Pachelbel fills it up.
One summer I sailed across the Atlantic Ocean, then through the Gulf of Finland to reach Saint Petersburg; I pursued Joseph Brodsky in its alley ways. I dream of making that two summers.
I read “Biking to Electra;” found my way in a Jaguar car, and glanced at the flashing steel grasshoppers at sunset. I’ll follow K.O.P.’s footsteps after he followed N.Scott Momaday’s; find warmth and inspiration on a rainy mountain.
Throw chinese coins for the I Ching.
Save the whales, the spotted owl, the woman in toil.
Cast a fly for trout; my memories of fly fishing under the sunny blue Colorado sky remain; I yearn to build more . . . with more trophy Browns.
Listen for the swan’s calls on the Baltic Sea. Feel KKII's joy, his arms spread wide in Yazilikaya.
Good night, Jimmy Durante, where ever you are.