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, May 4, 2011

Gail's Birds

      I visited the South Plains Rehabilitation Center located in Lubbock, Texas. Gail took the found fledgling Great Horned Owl in her arms, weighed him, and then, with hemostats, gave him mice to eat. He ate with relish. Gail received another owl that same afternoon, and fed him, too. And he seemed mischievous by clamping down his beak so hard against the hemostats that Gail could not retrieve them until he let go.
Gail and the owl I brought to her.

He held the hemostats in his beak.

He looks comfortable and satisfied in Gail's arms after his meal.

Linda, from Amarillo, gently held one of the satisfied owls.


Gail took the owls to the flight rooms. Ours jumped from her arms and flew up onto a perch.
We both felt happy that he seemed strong enough to fly.

Gail nurtures resident owls. Two Barn Owls (above) live year-round at South Plains.

The Barn Owls above are parents to chicks, which Gail raises and then releases in the wild.

These nestling Barn Owls were born at South Plains.

The juvenile Golden Eagle above suffers from head trauma after colliding with a car.
He will remain under Gail's care until he can fend for himself in nature.




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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.