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 . . .

Monday, November 21, 2011

Marker in Scurry



        Native American marker trees can seem mysterious, magical, and fascinating in other ways. MyMrMallory and I headed to Holliday to photograph the marker tree there. Visit Ken Fibbe's article about the marker tree pictured here. And the fellow about whom he writes, Steve Houser, published an article in two parts about marker trees in the North Texas region. Steve Houser's article Part One, and
Steve Houser's article Part Two.

        And upon our return, some magic did envelope us; some sort of liquid stuff fell on us, and heavily, too. It took us a while to remember to engage the . . . um . . . that stick that runs across our windshield? Oh, yes, the windshield wipers. They still function on the truck. Seriously, the rain pounded us, and we delighted in it though it hurt our ears and we could not hear one another speak; not that we wanted to speak, for we felt in awe of the rain.




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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.