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 . . .
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
N Scott Momaday
Bear, the poet, attended the Mayborn conference this month. Always charmed by the magic of his words.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Next Up: Gnome's Georgia
Sent my entry fee today to the Oklahoma City Concours d'Elegance in September. Feeling low-key and non-competitive, so I entered Georgia in the Driven class. Probably Cliff will move her up to Championship class, and then I'll feel some stress caused by my competitive spirit. I should curb that and enjoy the competition anyway! My Mr. Mallory has already agreed to attend with me, and good thing that he will be on my team: no one can buff a car as meticulously as he can to make it look perfectly shiny.
I entered Tex, too. I always feel up to entering Tex in competition. However, it becomes more difficult to win as time goes by, though, because I have to compete against the boys who buy a new Jaguar every year; so every time they simply drive off the show room floor and into their slot at the concours. Their car is impeccable, while mine shows a little wear here and there -- and that's the way it should be for one who loves her Jaguars. Well, maybe there won't be any brand spanking new Jaguars this year. Either way, no stress will be felt!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Out for a Spin on the Honda
One thousand fifteen hundred and fifty cubic centimeters of power: I sat on a Honda Valkyrie motorcycle this evening and rode as if on a cloud floating down the road. I'd forgotten what it felt like, the interaction of that machine and me, and the road and the wind displaced by the windshield, the wide berth allowed to me by gawking motorists when they see a woman on a large machine. I had forgotten how much I miss my husband on our road trips, all the motorcycles he had, and that this one was his last, so new when he died. At the fuel station I pretended my tears were caused by the wind.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Tom Danaher and the Jenny
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Iconic Photo of Texas
Ysabel mentioned me in her blog again.
"A while back, I posted a quintessential Texas photograph by Elizabeth Hawley. Part of what made her photo so wonderful was another photo that formed her photo's background. I recently learned who took that great Texas photo and want to give credit where it's (over)due.
The photographer is Sean Fitzgerald. To see more of his work, go to seanfitzgerald.com. Click on Portfolio, and have a good time "traveling." Africa, Guatemala, VietNam, 30 days on a Texas ranch, . . . This is special work, done with an exceptional clarity of vision and a clear and deep sense of appreciation for the natural world. If you've never been to Texas, or been only to its cities and not to its landscapes, then you owe it to yourself to go to the 30 Days on a Texas Ranch portfolio on Sean's site. He truly captures the spirit of the land that is Texas: rugged, uncompromising, fascinating and beautiful.
I'll leave you with this double treat of Sean's image of two hummingbirds in flight. When I see an image like this I feel convinced that photography just had to be part of man's evolutionary progress and God's divine plan. Enjoy!"
"A while back, I posted a quintessential Texas photograph by Elizabeth Hawley. Part of what made her photo so wonderful was another photo that formed her photo's background. I recently learned who took that great Texas photo and want to give credit where it's (over)due.
The photographer is Sean Fitzgerald. To see more of his work, go to seanfitzgerald.com. Click on Portfolio, and have a good time "traveling." Africa, Guatemala, VietNam, 30 days on a Texas ranch, . . . This is special work, done with an exceptional clarity of vision and a clear and deep sense of appreciation for the natural world. If you've never been to Texas, or been only to its cities and not to its landscapes, then you owe it to yourself to go to the 30 Days on a Texas Ranch portfolio on Sean's site. He truly captures the spirit of the land that is Texas: rugged, uncompromising, fascinating and beautiful.
I'll leave you with this double treat of Sean's image of two hummingbirds in flight. When I see an image like this I feel convinced that photography just had to be part of man's evolutionary progress and God's divine plan. Enjoy!"
Bird Photo
Peach Festival
Sunday, June 15, 2008
At the Crow
Monday, June 9, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Birdwatcher Gnome and Gnome
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Gnome Sees Patster
I took some supper to Patricia this evening. Still convalescing, she felt weak as she came out to the sun room to greet me. I informed her on the most recent inside WGA activities, and caught up on her granddaughter; then, I told her about Aunt Carmela's ninetieth birthday, which I will attend. Then HershMeister started the oven for me. I warmed their supper, washed a few dishes, then sat at Pat's feet. At one point she said, "Herschel, pass me that blanket. I feel cold." He rose, took the blanket, and as he covered her he said, "My girl feels chilled sometimes." I tucked her feet under the blanket he spread over her. HershMeister took over at that point, because I wanted to leave Pat to herself while she waited for her dinner. I gave her a hug, received a highly-cherished kiss from her, then left, saying on my way out that I might just drive off in HershMeister's '89 black Corvette.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Corvettes in the Parking Lot
Gnome Day
Mac took this photo of me while doing four Gs in his biplane. Glad to have a photograph to embellish my memory of such an outstanding experience.
On my way to class I have seen this pair either at my house or here, in this pond.
Friends Judy and Winnifred cover their faces when I bring my camera out of my bag.
I still own my T-bird -- and enjoying it very much, thank you -- and don't mind it at all that I cannot sell it. That's a Pilates plane in the background.
On my way to class I have seen this pair either at my house or here, in this pond.
Friends Judy and Winnifred cover their faces when I bring my camera out of my bag.
I still own my T-bird -- and enjoying it very much, thank you -- and don't mind it at all that I cannot sell it. That's a Pilates plane in the background.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Candies for Season Ticket Holders
Population Scientist at Gnome's House
These are the links:
http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2008/apr/20/population-explosion/
http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2008/apr/23/growth-causing-trouble/
Photo by Neta, taken at a nearby restaurant.
"The writer made so much mention of my coming back: Doesn't anyone ever return to Wichita Falls?" These were the first words out of his mouth after he entered my house. Later in the evening, I found him wandering in the hallway looking forlorn and tired. He said, "They left without saying good bye."
"Who did?" I asked him.
"The Germans. They left without saying good bye."
I wondered about which Germans he meant, then realized he referred to Dr. Wiederman and her husband, and whom I happened to have glimpsed in the dining room as I walked by moments earlier; so, I lead Werner to them.
Dr. Wiederman pointed to the silk scarf she wore, as she walked out the door, subsequently, as she said good bye, and said she matched the living room which contains all sorts of oriental things--a collection brought together from my things, John's things, his mother's and my late David's--and indeed, I thought she looked striking, especially in that room, but I think she would look striking everywhere. Her husband seemed a fine fellow, and I was glad, like Werner, that they had not left without saying good bye. Charles had to leave early, so Karen took Werner to his hotel. I was saddened to see him go before I could visit with him more.
http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2008/apr/20/population-explosion/
http://www.timesrecordnews.com/news/2008/apr/23/growth-causing-trouble/
Photo by Neta, taken at a nearby restaurant.
"The writer made so much mention of my coming back: Doesn't anyone ever return to Wichita Falls?" These were the first words out of his mouth after he entered my house. Later in the evening, I found him wandering in the hallway looking forlorn and tired. He said, "They left without saying good bye."
"Who did?" I asked him.
"The Germans. They left without saying good bye."
I wondered about which Germans he meant, then realized he referred to Dr. Wiederman and her husband, and whom I happened to have glimpsed in the dining room as I walked by moments earlier; so, I lead Werner to them.
Dr. Wiederman pointed to the silk scarf she wore, as she walked out the door, subsequently, as she said good bye, and said she matched the living room which contains all sorts of oriental things--a collection brought together from my things, John's things, his mother's and my late David's--and indeed, I thought she looked striking, especially in that room, but I think she would look striking everywhere. Her husband seemed a fine fellow, and I was glad, like Werner, that they had not left without saying good bye. Charles had to leave early, so Karen took Werner to his hotel. I was saddened to see him go before I could visit with him more.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
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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.