Artist From WWII's Foxholes

       

         Carolyn Gilbert hosted a remarkable fellow (a remarkable lady herself, she knows how to do that). On Veteran's Day, William A. Foley, Jr., (at left) gave a lecture on his experience working on his book, Visions from a Foxhole: A Rifleman in Patton's Ghost Corps. ISBN 978-0-89141-850-4. In her column in the Times Record News, Gilbert explains how she met Foley.

         Foley served in the 94th Infantry Division under General George S. Patton. During that time, he sketched some of the scenes he witnessed as an infantryman. Below he shows the unbridled joy the infrantrymen felt when the P-47s arrived to assist them in battle.

       

        Highly descriptive with his words, one cannot help but feel the experiences he had as he related them during his lecture. In regard to his ability to write, he mentioned that not until later in his life he learned that he could tell his story, and he does very well, I say.

         

          Foley sketched himself and his own personal experiences in addition to the men around him. Above he shows himself lunging away from a truck before it is hit by a mortar.

          Click on the images to visit his website and to view more artwork.

Migration's In

       Spotted outside my window this morning all at once, an Eastern Towhee, several juncos, an Inca Dove, a Chickadee, Starlings, one White-winged Dove, and several Bluejays. Thanks to Nila at Wichita Valley Landscaping for compiling a list of bird-attracting plants (it must help to have Saint Frances in the garden, too).

Seeing Storms, Eyeball and Radar: A Comparison

Garden Friends, All Beautiful

Beautiful Turns of Phrase in Two Languages

Ysabel de la Rosa: Take a Bilingual Ride on the Red River / Un viaje poético por el Río rojo

With Fall Drop Pumpkins

   
    On occasion of summer going away and fall arriving, and -- any excuse to fly -- aviators will fire up their birds, load up a co-pilot and a few pumpkins, and toss them out the cockpit as they fly at one hundred feet above ground level to test their skill at hitting a target on the field. My first video, here I show footage of a Stearman taking off, approaching the target, and his or her bombardier clever at judging speed and distance, coming close to hitting the target with one of the pumpkins. The end of the video shows the Stearman landing, followed by Dave's Piper Cub.
     In the distance I spotted large flocks of Sandhill Cranes, the sight of which brought to mind a link David sent to us. For a visual treat, see the video by Sophie Windsor Clive, see her video at Vimeo of a remarkable flock of starlings. Thanks, David!

Roadrunner

City Support

       The City of Wichita Falls is one of Wild Bird Rescue's biggest supporters. Recently, workers from the city placed logs around the grassy area that gives access to visitors to Lake Wichita, and added gravel for the parking space, making the area look landscaped. In addition to looking neater, the grassy area has now become a haven for the Killdeer that nest there every year.

Flute Past Sunset

The Crews played the keyboard and the flute past sunset. Venus appears over Mrs. Woods' home.

Image taken with a Nikon Coolpix S80.

1886 House: First View

       "Go over there and ask him. I know he'll say yes," Julie said, encouraging me to speak to the owner of a house built in 1886. She was right: I was allowed on the property to document a house built in 1886 and the results are below. Indeed, Matthew was warm and welcoming as he allowed MyMrMallory and me to tag along this evening to take pictures of what we believe has become the oldest house in Wichita County.  The thing is that the house is ruined by mold, so the current owners feel obligated to bulldoze it to the ground. My voluntary mission: Document the house with photographs. Later we will research the history of the house. I hope to document it here as we go along.

A cold front blew in at an estimated fifty-miles per hour as we drove toward the old house.

I hoped the clouds would embellish my photographs of the house.

Northeast view of the old house. (HDR image.)

Southwest view. (HDR image.) The distortion has to do with the effect of the lens. 

Southeast view. (Distortion due to the effect of the lens. Okay, I DO need to read now the literature FEK sent to me to tweak the wide-angle lens distortion.)

Awesome views all around as the cold front moved past us. 

One Hundred Year Old Barn

        My friend, Julie, encouraged me to photograph a one hundred year old barn that sits near her house. So this afternoon I traipsed over there and found my way to the barn. Driving my Lariat through a tight winding gravel road I came upon a dilapidated barn that seemed to have a recent and thick coat of red paint.
         Unfurling some wire that held the gate shut, I spooked some horses who noshed on the grass nearby, and in turn, they spooked me with their reaction. Amiable creatures as we were all, we established in this way a friendly relationship.

This is the old barn. Note the beams that attempt to halt its eventual collapse.

A wire held the gate shut.

A tree grew unattended through the fence near the gate.

To my new equine friends who seemed so interested in my lens, I promised to return for a few lessons in photography.

Introduced Hoggard, a Magical Poet

        A couple of months ago the chair of the Speakers and Issues Series, Dr. Montoya, asked me to introduce James Hoggard at his next reading. I thanked her for the honor, and set to work on my words. I felt deeply honored and delighted to give my observations about his work as I introduced him.

       Here are some excerpts from my speech.

       James Hoggard served as Poet Laureate of Texas for the year 2000 and has won numerous awards for his writing, including a fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts, and recognition for his translations, short stories, and poetry books, and most notable to me, a Lon Tinkle Award for Excellence Sustained throughout a Career. He's written very well for a long time.

        Most of the public know about his long list of awards, so rather than list them, I wanted to emphasize his longevity as a poet, one of the grandest things about Hoggard. Also, he has worked as professor at MSU for a couple of decades, and I wished to point out another grand thing about him, and that is the effect he has on his community and students.

        His work, his awards, and his devotion to MSU and the community have raised the quality of education in the city, indeed the world, for students from all around the world attend MSU and return to their countries taking with them everything they've learned from him.

        At first I thought it sounded excessive, until I recognized its truth.

        My late first husband, David, a Harvard grad, mathematician, and professor of linguistics, would read aloud to me Hoggard's work. With few exceptions, David would not read aloud, so I knew that when he read something great emerged from his lips. I've known that . . .  a poet has some influence on his readers. I paraphrase Mr. John Hirschi when he said that Hoggard weaves magic with his words.

         And here I begin to explain my observations about his work, his remarkable work over the years.

        Carefully considered words by Hoggard are the magic through which he expresses his insights into the parts of life that we may not see otherwise. His book Elevator Man, and his latest novel, The Mayor's Daughter, in addition to countless poems, all show these beautifully written ways of expressing things, those things that seem equally as intelligent as his choice of language.

        I added that In Eyesigns he wittily compels the reader with imagery, words, and numbers. This book is difficult to find now, but do try to acquire your own copy because it is a treat to visit every once in a while.

        For The Mayor's Daughter, my intention was to comprehend more the depth of Hoggard's insight, so I spent a few hours at the archives downtown reading the court documents and articles about the tragedy.

        The knowledge I gained about the tragedy shocked me. The culprits and the people who continued to support them made me feel such disdain that I did not feel sure I wanted to read the book at all!

        The story, though, brings redemption to the victims, and to a town, and said that it shows the struggle of a townsfolk experiencing increasing wealth, and then attempting to maintain the commensurate levels of culture rising in their lives. Indeed, Hoggard beautifully righted a wrong.

         My second honor that evening was to present him with a plaque to commemorate his twentieth book. The chair, unable to attend the reading, gave me that wonderful task.

         And so it was another poetic evening in Wichita Falls. This time, though, I had the honor to contribute my part, an honor that I will have present in my mind for a long time.

         See an article about Hoggard's recent awards published a couple of days later in the Times Record News, written by Ted Buss.

CWC Above Clouds to DTO

At sunrise, MyMrMallory and I hopped in the plane at Kickapoo and left for Denton. 

Taking off on runway 35.

The sun, Lake Arrowhead, and the propeller of a King Air. 

Flying above the clouds.

That is one tall antenna we fly around at 4,000 feet.

On final for Denton's runway. Two planes hold while we land. 

Denton has an aviation school, so the airport stays busy all week. 

The tower with friendly and helpful controllers in Denton.

Hoggard Reads

Speakers and Issues Series

Presents

James Hoggard – The Mayor’s Daughter

Museum of Art at MSU

Thursday, October 27, 2011, at 7 p.m.

       Professor James Hoggard reads from his twentieth book, The Mayor’s Daughter. In this novel the author creates a place like Wichita Falls in the mid-1920s where, as prominent novelist Sarah Bird has said, he gives us “an extraordinarily powerful family drama.” The potent forces detailed in this novel include both lyrical and raw turns in a world where a figure of courage rises in the midst of breath-taking cruelty into a hard-earned sense of justice and hope.

Lomography: Driving Around

         There seems no end to the subject matter one can photograph with a simple, plastic, Diana F+, 120 film, and a fisheye lens.

Two cars parked in front of a hangar.

Driving along Iowa Park Road.

Storage building for grain.

Trees at a corner.

Sunlight through the trees.

The Kemp Center for the Arts.

Carol presides at meetings held at the Kemp Center for the Arts.

Cherished Garden Guests

Not Here to Stay

       Jeff Masters, whose blog I frequently visit, confirms that Texas will remain dry and warmer than usual through winter and spring. Argh. Here are a couple of outlook maps I snagged from his blog:

      La Nina is not here to stay, thank Goodness for that; but, unfortunately, neither are our trees, and so we may witness many more die.

Spotting Panhandle Birds

      Great birding, for a gnome who had no plans to birdwatch. Spotted four Golden Eagles -- or the same one several times -- and a huge flock of Sandhill Cranes south of Pampa. I felt amazed to see the images below after downloading them on my computer. I took them from the back seat of a truck as we bounced along country roads. I am encouraged to think how much better I could have experienced my photography if I would have used a tripod and stood still. I spotted many other birds but did not identify them as we sped past them.

Sandhill Cranes.

Mottled Duck in flight.

Mottled Duck all by herself.

Red-bellied Woodpecker.

Rump shot of a male Yellow-shafter Flicker.

I like this image because it shows a bit of the habitat of the Lark Sparrow. He sits on one of the t-posts.