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, October 9, 2012

Alamo at Sunrise

      I stood early in the morning before the Alamo. Still dark, a photographer had set up his camera, his tripod, and his remote shutter release, and we both huddled in the cool temperatures. I assumed he knew more than I did about the conditions, and had arrived better prepared than I had, just toting my camera, strolling around town, stopping with curiosity where I saw his camera and tripod.
      As we waited in the darkness, something magical began to occur on the Alamo. With the rising sun behind the Alamo, its rays reflected on the mirrored buildings in front of it, casting its light upon the stone, moving across its facade, as if through a window of a chapel designed to illuminate the altar. I sat on the curb and rested my elbows on my knees, trying to keep my camera as steady as possible. The other photographer ignored the magic as I made a few images of it, in between my breathlessness.


D4, 17-35mm cropped, ISO400, f2.8, 1/2500, +2EV.
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

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.