There seem plentiful crickets around for the American Kestrel. Pitiable as it looks, the pond, though, has mussels and fish for the Cattle Egret. In addition, several head of cattle ambled in for a sip of water. The egret has own herd of cattle.
Photographic and poetic meanderings along the countryside or while flying an airplane.
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, July 31, 2011
Releasing Egret and Kestrel
Mama Bird Lila and the volunteers devoted to saving lives at Wild Bird Rescue raised these two souls. MyMrMallory and I drove into the countryside -- a most pitiable-looking countryside -- to release them.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
An Intriguing Sculpture: Part One
In addition to discovering more information about the sculpture pictured here, I will find out at what in the world the cowboy points. The sculpture stands, grandly, and perhaps much too hidden by astonishingly hardy crepe myrtles, along the main street at the Fort Worth Stockyards. I neglected to, argh, look at the plaque that identifies the artist and the name of the art work. But, ah, an excuse to return to grand ol' Fort Worth!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Grace Flight
An aviator who volunteers for Grace Flight, H.-P. invited me to tag along on one of his missions. Pilots who volunteer for the organization, Grace Flight, must pass some requirements, such as 250 hours of flight time, insurance, and medical certificate. Thanks to the pilots, patients, adults and children, may fly free of charge to other cities for treatment of their illness. Once the pilots transport the patients to a specified airport, a driver, known as an "angel," will transport the patient to the hospital or other place to stay. I think Grace Flight is grand.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Old, Old Hangar in Frederick
Just north of the Texan border with Oklahoma there exists -- still -- an seventy-year old airport. Impressive in its quality, construction for this airport began in the 1940s to prepare US aviators for war. Eventually it became a civilian airport. The original hangar still stands, massively, to park the C-47 nicknamed Boogie Baby, from which parachutists from the WWII Airborne Demonstration Team jump. For fun. And to remember, honor, and serve.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Sully: First Images
Lila cured the infection in this nestling Red-tail Hawk's eye, but he will remain blind. Wild Bird Rescue ponders the possibility of retaining him permanently, adding him to the avian ambassador program for the benefit of children. His name is Sully.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
All Grown Up
Keeping one foot on the opening in case he needs to rush back into safety.
But once he made up his mind he determinedly walked toward the water.
Facing the world all by himself now.
Raised and released by Wild Bird Rescue.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Cool Ruidoso, Art and Weather
A visit to Ruidoso's The Adobe, a fine art gallery, began what seemed to me an experience as refreshing as the cool temps and the rain that fell upon us, sopping us, as we walked along the streets. The art work in the other galleries we visited, too, during our "gallery hopping" -- exquisite -- represented the innate talent in the region. The moisture, almost forgotten to those of us who live in North Central Texas, gave me the strength to withstand the oven-like winds that blew as we exited the plane after returning to Kickapoo Airport and to our drought. In my mind, though, remains the memory of the works of art of artists I saw on display in the galleries in Ruidoso.
On our way we spotted a few rain clouds. I envisioned us lassoing them to bring them home with us.
As usual clouds embellish my images. Here they are looking gorgeous over Fort Stanton's range.
Rain fell to our right and left before we landed at the Sierra Blanca Regional Airport. Can you see the propeller outside the windshield?
Ruidoso teems with artistic talent.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Dickens
A small town populated by three or so hundred people lies sixty miles east of Lubbock, Texas. The town began as a stopping point for the cowboys and other people working in the area. It seems an intriguing little place that has served the people since the late 1880s. Find a good history about it at the Texas State Historical Association's site. I drive by there upon occasion, and this time I could not help myself but to stop long enough to take images of some of the buildings along Highway 82. The buildings reflect the charm and perseverance of the people who live in Dickens. Indeed, a story tells of several prisoners who escaped the Dickens jail, found a ride to the nearest bootlegger, then returned to the jail to consume their wine. Better yet, though, its people preserve their history and heritage in the Dickens Historical Museum, a place I hope to visit soon.
Dickens Historical Museum on Montgomery Street.
Dickens County Courthouse. Fascinating account of its history at their site.
Across the street from the courthouse, to the south, a lawyer's office still stands.
H. A. C. Brummett died in 1980.
The county jail.
An abandoned but still loved building.
Dickens Grocery.
Outside this building we can still tie our horses to the hitching rail.
Painted and decorated.
For Rent. Sleeps two.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Busy Volunteers
Lila, the new head mama bird at Wild Bird Rescue, may see no end in sight for the injured, abandoned, or sick number of birds finding their way, thanks to concerned citizens, into her hands. Stalwart volunteers such as Chris, Pete, and Marjorie, among several others, make saving the lives of wild birds possible. Spring and summer provide steady tasks for volunteers!
Texas Parks and Wildlife brought a fledgling Barn Owl found far from its nest.
A heron asks for more food. Birds are fed every twenty minutes.
Lila feeds a Mississippi Kite.
Twenty minutes are up! Purple Martins beg for more food.
Please consider donating to Wild Bird Rescue, Inc.
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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.
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.