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 . . .

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Room for Possums

          Our mission: Release two captive young possums back to the wild. Penny met us at Wild Bird Rescue with two possums. MyMrMallory and I loaded the crate containing the two fellows into the white jalopy, then drove into the countryside, as far away from civilization as humanly possible. 

          Along the way, we drove across fields of flowers. The countryside remains covered in flowers, delightfully. Cows watched us drive through the brush toward the lake. 

           Finally, we came to our destination, Duck Lake, where we released the two fellows.

           Frogs hopped into the lake as we approached. No, we cannot see them in the photo above. I wish I could have spotted them before they disappeared into the water!

Hesitant, the possums remained in the soft bedding inside the cozy crate. 



           Slowly, they investigated, sniffing before every step they took, and then, together they ambled under the grove of trees, disappearing under the broom brush.

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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.