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 15, 2012

Stilts, Shovelers, and Egrets in Flight

      Amongst the usual gang of feathered wild life, MyMrMallory and I spotted two black-necked stilts and three northern shovelers, the species that to me seem exciting to spot. We saw a flock of cattle egrets, too. 
      "Would you like to take their picture?" asked MyMrMallory. He stopped the truck and I hopped out. The egrets remained by the shore of the pond for a while, looking at me, big question marks above their heads, then hopped up all at once. They flew around me a couple of times before settling down on the other side of the pond. I noted as I viewed my images in Lightroom, that at first the egrets took off clumsily, messily, and then, as they flew in the air for a while, they found their positions in some semblance of a formation; not anything like the tight formations of the geese, or the Blue Angels, mind you, but certainly tight enough to remain a handsome flock, almost pastoral-looking with the light blue sky and cumulous clouds in the background.
     The ponds in the countryside still contain water, perhaps enough to carry through to autumn. One prays. In the meantime, Penny had a good morning during her birdwatching enjoyment. Support the Texas Parks and Wildlife department by visiting the parks, donating, or by buying season passes.




     

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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.