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, March 24, 2010

Feed on the Ground

I volunteered four hours today at the Wild Bird Rescue center. After driving to Lavell Street to check on some ducks -- and they were just fine -- I spent most of my time looking out BirdManBob's office window. Hummer, Lilly, and Sunflower worked the afternoon shift with me. Their company made bird watching out the window much more enjoyable for me.

Large birds visited the area of the feeder. BirdManBob tosses a couple of cups of bird seed out on the grass for them.
English Sparrows have taken up residence in the box outside the front porch.

Mr. and Mrs. Mallard returned to the bird feed area.

Male and female Cardinals.

The more red color he displays, the higher up in the Redwing Blackbird hierarchy he stands in his flock.

I had great difficulty identifying these two visitors: Not Lark Sparrows, not Savannahs, not this, not that. Finally, Alicia helped us identify them as female Red-winged Blackbirds.

Brown-headed Blackbird.

Male Grackles. Grackles are intelligent and inquisitive.

Female Grackles.

Female White-crowned Sparrow.

White-crowned Sparrow, male, looking vulnerable in the strong, increasingly cold winds.

Female English Sparrow.

Four species of doves visited the feeding area at the Wild Bird Rescue Center: White-winged Dove, Ring-necked Turtle Dove, Mourning, and Eurasian Collared Dove (this one courting). 

But there was another visitor to the feeding area, and not of our feathered friends, but of the furry kind.

Alicia and Steve came in to visit with Lilly. 
And such were my four hours volunteering today at Wild Bird Rescue.


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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.