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 . . .

Friday, November 8, 2013

To the Shop

     On a day when I decided not to fly on account of the strong winds, MyMrMallory walks in my office and declares, "Bobby wants the planes this afternoon." A studied look at the weather, followed by a quick jaunt to the airport, and off we flew to the mechanic's shop, he in his aerobat for radio repairs, and I in the Bonanza to bring him back home. I realized for the first time that I've become handy to another pilot now that I have a pilot's license, similar to having someone pick you up at the shop when you drop off your car for repairs, except that this particular shop is seventy-eight nautical miles south of town. 
       "I got lost," MyMrMallory said, after landing. No functioning radios in his plane meant flying with a map, which he confessed he'd held upside-down, east and west on the wrong sides of north and south." First there was Lake Arrowhead, then there was Archer City, then Graham, and then . . . and then . . . I got lost."
       I indulged with the iPhone app, OldPicture, to finish the images I took along the way, and what a beautiful way it was with several layers of clouds.

Bobby signals the aerobat to park.

Bonanza waits for the return flight home.

Several decks of clouds.


North Texas from 5,500 feet in the late afternoon.


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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.