NOAA chart from Dr. Jeff Masters' WunderBlog.
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 . . .
Monday, July 11, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Dickens
A small town populated by three or so hundred people lies sixty miles east of Lubbock, Texas. The town began as a stopping point for the cowboys and other people working in the area. It seems an intriguing little place that has served the people since the late 1880s. Find a good history about it at the Texas State Historical Association's site. I drive by there upon occasion, and this time I could not help myself but to stop long enough to take images of some of the buildings along Highway 82. The buildings reflect the charm and perseverance of the people who live in Dickens. Indeed, a story tells of several prisoners who escaped the Dickens jail, found a ride to the nearest bootlegger, then returned to the jail to consume their wine. Better yet, though, its people preserve their history and heritage in the Dickens Historical Museum, a place I hope to visit soon.
Dickens Historical Museum on Montgomery Street.
Dickens County Courthouse. Fascinating account of its history at their site.
Across the street from the courthouse, to the south, a lawyer's office still stands.
H. A. C. Brummett died in 1980.
The county jail.
An abandoned but still loved building.
Dickens Grocery.
Outside this building we can still tie our horses to the hitching rail.
Painted and decorated.
For Rent. Sleeps two.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Busy Volunteers
Lila, the new head mama bird at Wild Bird Rescue, may see no end in sight for the injured, abandoned, or sick number of birds finding their way, thanks to concerned citizens, into her hands. Stalwart volunteers such as Chris, Pete, and Marjorie, among several others, make saving the lives of wild birds possible. Spring and summer provide steady tasks for volunteers!
Texas Parks and Wildlife brought a fledgling Barn Owl found far from its nest.
A heron asks for more food. Birds are fed every twenty minutes.
Lila feeds a Mississippi Kite.
Twenty minutes are up! Purple Martins beg for more food.
Please consider donating to Wild Bird Rescue, Inc.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Jet and Thundercloud
A thundercloud serves as striking background to the entrance of the Battleship Memorial Park in Mobile, Alabama.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Tower at Iowa City Airport
While putting in for a fuel topping and a case of engine oil, I caught a glimpse of the light tower outside the windows of the terminal at Iowa City Airport.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Into the Sky
Mary and I entered the 2011 Air Race Classic. Link at right.
Early during most mornings, David H. flies his Piper Cub around the pattern at Kickapoo Airport.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Armadillo's Rump
Armadillos seem fascinating creatures. They are an omnivorous mammal that sleeps most of the day, has poor eyesight, a great sense of smell, and long claws for digging for food or for burrows. Fascinating facts at the National Geographic site.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Dallas Mavericks
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Gary Flying My Friend Ellen
Gary took my friend Ellen for a ride in the helicopter. She was tickled. And I felt tickled watching her. At times, non-aviation folks will walk tentatively toward an aircraft, a bit hesitant to board. Not my friend Ellen! She frisked right up to it and hopped into it, nimbly maneuvering her leg over the cyclic. (The cyclic is the helicopter's steering mechanism.) Here she is taking pictures of us as she and Gary returned to the ramp.
Lazy Eights
I had the opportunity to fly as a safety pilot while H.-P. practiced "under the hood." In order to fly an airplane by its instruments only, as pilots do when they fly through the clouds, unable to see the ground, they must practice doing so in nice weather, but with their eyes covered just enough to omit everything above the cockpit. A pilot places "foggles" over his eyes to cover everything except his instruments. This mandates having another pilot flying with them to make sure they do not fly into someone else, or to prevent other mistakes.
First we flew to Olney where they enjoy having beautifully maintained runways and a GPS approach:
The chart above reminds me of an expression I hear often said by the volunteers and rehabbers at Wild Bird Rescue in reference to some nestling birds, such as the baby grackles: ". . . a face only a mother could love." Only pilots love the kind of charts the aviation navigation engineers developed to aide them in finding air fields while flying inside clouds.
After H.-P. practiced his approaches, the final ones subsequently at Wichita Valley Airport, he practiced lazy eights, a maneuver practiced by pilots to develop perfect control of the aircraft. The Federal Aviation Administration provides a good diagram to show what a lazy eight should look like:
What fun to sit in the right seat while experiencing the undulations of the lazy eight! (Yes, more fun to fly them!) While climbing and descending during a lazy eight, the pilot tests his skill in maintaining constant speed while the airplane loses or gains with each turn. I took photos as H.-P. performed the maneuver. H.-P. pitched to a forty-five degree angle, bringing the nose of his aircraft up, and watched his altitude and airspeed as he flew the lazy eight. The horizon shows the North Central Texas countryside looking green in spite of the severe drought conditions.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Early Mornings at Ramp
My flights with Gary and H.-P. take me to the airport as the sun rises. I post processed the images of the sunrise in the digital darkroom using Lightroom's vast options to make the otherwise drab images look surreal.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Poetry: Revised History of Retractable Gear on Aircraft
On the spring Amelia covered her blond hair with a leather helmet
then donned her clear as air glass goggles over her blue eyes --
was the same spring Antoine set his headings 270 degrees
Skimming the sunny top of the clouds they came upon each other
in the sky, over the world, one heading east, one heading west
Antoine looked out his cockpit and saw Amelia’s bi-plane
her wings gliding along the top, a ship gliding smoothly in the air
He exclaimed, C’est une jolie image, Amelia et l'avion!
was what she thought of his plane, too, over the top of the clouds
Then a fantastic idea conceptualized in both brilliant minds
of wheels that would tuck up under the plane upon take-off
to glide through the air like a ship gliding across the surface
Amelia waved to Antoine and said, Nice day for flying, non?
then donned her clear as air glass goggles over her blue eyes --
was the same spring Antoine set his headings 270 degrees
in the sky, over the world, one heading east, one heading west
Antoine looked out his cockpit and saw Amelia’s bi-plane
He exclaimed, C’est une jolie image, Amelia et l'avion!
was what she thought of his plane, too, over the top of the clouds
Then a fantastic idea conceptualized in both brilliant minds
of wheels that would tuck up under the plane upon take-off
to glide through the air like a ship gliding across the surface
Amelia waved to Antoine and said, Nice day for flying, non?
The WWI Curtiss "Jenny" piloted by Tom Danaher, Wichita Falls, Texas, 2008. |
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
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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.