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 . . .

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Lake Wichita

   Things emerged during the drought, and as MyMrMallory says, opportunities gave way to discoveries. The posts in the water that once held a walkway, eighty or so years ago, stand taller in the water, providing a new viewpoint for a photographer. Original walls now meander across the dry mud, taking me back in time when different dreams led the actions of its people. Back then, they envisioned a city on this spot, with folks who would need water; they also needed a place to go on the weekends to dance and be with each other. They stood on this spot and gazed at the sun setting over Lake Wichita. They also tossed coins, 1880s nickels and silver dollars, or gold coins. Today, Rich, below, carries his metal detector and a shovel, and he digs them up.

     Robie Mound in the background. These posts were part of a pavilion during the first part of the twentieth century.


These walls, near the current dam structure, emerged from the receding waters.

A practical anchor.

A can. Looks very old. 

Rich finds nickels over a hundred years old, in addition to silver dollars and gold coins.

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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.