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 . . .

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Riding a Lawn Mower


       Recently, I discovered a new passion, and that is the endeavor of riding a lawn mower. I'm not good at it, yet, not having figured out a pattern, and having to ride around mowing over large patches of grass I missed, but I don't mind. The enjoyment in riding a lawn mower comes as no surprise to me because I love to drive things, to ride in things. Here, though, I contribute by driving something in cutting the grass. I recall the complaints made by some folks in having to mow -- the tedious chore they must accomplish every weekend -- usually ended by a dash to the refrigerator for a nice cold brew that will ameliorate the boredom of . . . mowing. Not I! I won't complain and I don't particularly like beer, so I get to mow and mow and mow until I run out of grass or the mower malfunctions, as it did today, the poor thing, by breaking a chain. How disappointing that we could not repair it so that I could continue my task.
       Not everyone has the opportunity to ride a lawn mower, and may live a lifetime never sitting on one; why, I cite myself as an example. I know many people who ride around in lawn mowers, but only until last month did I ever do so myself.
       I picture above our old lawn mower purchased from Texas Tractor Supply company on its fiftieth anniversary. TSC opened its doors in 1939. Except for a broken chain, it still mows, puttering along, turning on a quarter rather than on a dime, over humps, and around Mesquite plants.
       Unlike most folks, I can hardly wait to repair the mower and jump back on it to mow. The love of beer after mowing, I assume, will come with time.
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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.