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 . . .

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Through Dust and Hail Storms, I Serve

      I served as transporter for a Red-tailed Hawk and four nestling Barn Owls.  A large sign fell over in one of the recent storms, and it tore down a nest, sending its tenant, a young Red-tailed to the ground. Concerned citizens brought him to Wild Bird Rescue. The four Barns had hatched inside a hunter's deer blind. Since Wild Bird Rescue cannot raise large birds -- yet -- Gail Barnes at South Plains Rehabilitation Center receives them and raises them, eventually to release them back into the wild. (I enjoy alliteration and thought of titling this post "Barns to Barnes," but I could not bring myself so to do, ha-ha.)

      In Seymour I came upon the symbols for branding irons.

Windmills and quadruped power-lines: How pretty, no? 

I drove through a dust storm blowing at forty miles per hour across North Texas.

And encountered one of Ben's fave views . . .  a storm building rapidly . . . and waiting for me. Fortunately I came upon an underpass and tucked my car under it while the hail passed by. 

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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.