Photographic and poetic meanderings along the countryside or while flying an airplane.
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, August 28, 2016
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Monday, August 22, 2016
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Thursday, August 18, 2016
Pics for Wild Bird Rescue
Cassandra honored me by asking me to include some of my images of the rescued birds at Wild Bird Rescue. They plan to use the images for a calendar fundraiser, and for a memorial to former educational birds. I included a Cedar Waxwing sitting on a holly branch that Marge brought in for it; a growing Scissortail Flycatcher (or Kingbird) that Chris fed, and a close-up of Stevie.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Green Heron Juvie
Earlier this year, specifically in May, and then again in June, I spotted a flock of Green herons at Lisa Lake. They appeared to have settled in to nest. And now, mid-August, I found two juvenile Green herons in the same reeds, hunting for flies and fishing.
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Saturday, August 13, 2016
Sunset After a Rain Shower
The cloud formations after a rain shower embellish the sunset over the lake. To the left, one can spot a Purple Martin house, its occupants out and about catching insects, while waiting for the call of migration.
Thursday, August 11, 2016
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Monday, August 8, 2016
Sleeping Under the Milky Way
After an afternoon on his SeaDoo, MyMrMallory and I settled in under the stars for an evening of meteor watching. We spotted several large meteors, all one week in advance of the peak of the Perseids. Bodes well for this weekend, if the sky is clear.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
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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.
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.