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

Caliche Pits, Rangeland, and Cotton Bales in Gray County

 I feel fascinated (endlessly) by the geology of the south west. 
Here we see some of the sedimentary layers of the caliche pit. 

The layer of clouds in the morning provided me with some color for my photographs. 
In my photography, I prefer to defer to the subject and leave the gorgeous sunrises in the background.
Sometimes, though, I look for a composition the will bring more light to the subject.
Except on those days when I feel too wussy to trek into the stubby cotton field. 

My Willys parked by the side of the cotton field. 
When possible, I feature my Willys in my photographic stories. 

Tumbleweeds (non-native Russian thistle) roll around the area.
This gate leads into the road that runs along the second playa.

Lovely colors with the pink clouds in the background and the yellow cotton bale packaging.

Charles' cattle munch on the corn stubs while birds fly around them.

Good ranch management includes the extraction and control of mesquite plants. 
Charles spent several hours on his tractor pulling the plants from the bulb. 
He designed the claw himself. 
Tall and healthy grass.


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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.