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 12, 2019

A New Beginning in Hartley

      Dabbling again recently in infrared, I converted this color image to black and white, raised the reds and blues, and saved it. In truth, I misjudged the look of the nifty Wayne Bennett Smoky Vision polarizer from Sing Ray and disliked the look when I opened it in Photoshop. Initially, I intended to bring out my infrared filters, but felt that I did not have enough time to work on any good images. 
In post processing, though, I found comfort in converting to black and white. 

     The headquarters compound under a deck of clouds. The nifty Wayne Bennett Smoky Vision polarizer added some interest to the view. The grasses in the foreground reflect the overgrazing and the effects of the past drought. The new cattle rancher believes in living "in sync with nature," and he feels sure (with his methods and some rain) that he can develop the ranch to a better rangeland. 

     The road leading to the headquarters compound. The clouds sure do look as if they will provide a gorgeous sunset. (I wish I could have remained there to see it.)

At the headquarters, a gate behind the house leads into the Whitetail pasture.

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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.