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 . . .
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Friday, May 24, 2013
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Hail Storm
My celebration of rain became bittersweet when hail the size of golf balls plummeted through the branches and a tornado struck Oklahoma.
Infrared camera image post-processed with Silver Efex.
The following images are color post-processed the same way.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Infrared: Abandoned House
An old place surrounded by old trees lends itself to infrared images.
(Beautifully post-processed by Nik's Silver Efex.)
Saturday, May 18, 2013
F14: A Relevant Little Airfield
A little airport, founded in 1946, sits at Lat/Long north 33 degrees, 56.86 minutes / west 98 degrees, and 36.97 minutes, elevation 1005 feet MSL, near the town of Iowa Park in North Texas.
Most airplanes at Wichita Valley Airport are small (big on fun, though), such as RVs, Cubs, Pitts, Extras, and home-built. There are at least two helicopters that I've seen so far, including the emergency helicopters from the hospital popping in for some aviation fuel at a reduced price. On the field, too, there is a crop-dusting company with two or three Air Tractors.
The aviation community there gather en masse on most weekends to fly or mess around with their aircraft. They are a friendly bunch who gather at Pat's home every Sunday for the "Prior Meeting," that is, "prior to supper at the Thai Orchid" meeting.
Brian at his blog speaks of their friendliness one day when he stopped by for a burger:
http://brainsflight.blogspot.com/2007/06/wichita-valley-airport-f14-thank-you.html
In the fall, the airport hosts the "Pumpkin Plummet." Cubs and 172s -- even the twin engine Piper on the field -- fly the pattern and drop pumpkins at a target on the grass.
MyMrMallory and I flew over the field today and snapped a couple of shots. Here is one of the photos taken from the west.
Most airplanes at Wichita Valley Airport are small (big on fun, though), such as RVs, Cubs, Pitts, Extras, and home-built. There are at least two helicopters that I've seen so far, including the emergency helicopters from the hospital popping in for some aviation fuel at a reduced price. On the field, too, there is a crop-dusting company with two or three Air Tractors.
The aviation community there gather en masse on most weekends to fly or mess around with their aircraft. They are a friendly bunch who gather at Pat's home every Sunday for the "Prior Meeting," that is, "prior to supper at the Thai Orchid" meeting.
Brian at his blog speaks of their friendliness one day when he stopped by for a burger:
http://brainsflight.blogspot.com/2007/06/wichita-valley-airport-f14-thank-you.html
In the fall, the airport hosts the "Pumpkin Plummet." Cubs and 172s -- even the twin engine Piper on the field -- fly the pattern and drop pumpkins at a target on the grass.
MyMrMallory and I flew over the field today and snapped a couple of shots. Here is one of the photos taken from the west.
For more information about Wichita Valley Airport, click here.
Wichita Valley Airport foments the aviation culture in the Wichita Falls area, and reflects its rich history in aviation.
Update: Unsatisfied with the images we had taken, MyMrMallory again flew the helicopter for another attempt, this time from 2,500' MSL. Below are some of the images I took.
Update: Unsatisfied with the images we had taken, MyMrMallory again flew the helicopter for another attempt, this time from 2,500' MSL. Below are some of the images I took.
View of F14 from the south. Grass runway 4 is to the left. The location of the original terminal is at lower right. A couple of old hangars now serve as workshops. Lore has it that an airplane sits still in one of those hangars, once totaled by a flood in that corner of the airfield.
The view from the northeast shows grass runway 22.
My favorite image so far. (I say "so far" because MyMrMallory still wants to make another attempt at an angle from the top.) The small grass runway to the left is 16; to the right, paved runway 13.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Coluber Constrictor
A young one, slithering farther inside its den, away from two (also young) men
gathering stones in a wheat field.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Festus and His New Friends
Time came when MyMrMallory purchased a forlorn parcel of land, dried up by the drought, overtaken by mesquite, abandoned.
And on it, a horse fended for itself, all alone, finding fetid water to drink in the diminishing ponds, and some native grasses to eat, whatever could grow with little rain. Subsequently, Clay came upon the horse, and recognized it as one he had known on that old, abandoned ranch years ago. He had named the horse, "Festus," for its recurring festers.
Clay brought his own horses to that abandoned parcel of land, and Festus joined them. They are a sight to see, for this city gnome, they always are. Today, they surrounded my truck as I visited them. How I wished to have some nibbles to give to them! Festus slowly approached, dear horse, and I promised myself to stop by the shop for some morsels to bring him.
And on it, a horse fended for itself, all alone, finding fetid water to drink in the diminishing ponds, and some native grasses to eat, whatever could grow with little rain. Subsequently, Clay came upon the horse, and recognized it as one he had known on that old, abandoned ranch years ago. He had named the horse, "Festus," for its recurring festers.
Clay brought his own horses to that abandoned parcel of land, and Festus joined them. They are a sight to see, for this city gnome, they always are. Today, they surrounded my truck as I visited them. How I wished to have some nibbles to give to them! Festus slowly approached, dear horse, and I promised myself to stop by the shop for some morsels to bring him.
This is Bird, I think, who began his life as "Thunderbolt,"
later changed to "Thunderbird," and finally to "Bird."
The colt Clay owns for his children to ride.
I like the reflection of the sun bouncing from the silver paint on the hood onto its cheeks.
Sniffing for food in the bed of the truck, or just characteristically curious.
"Did you find any food?" "No, did you?"
They came to my window to sniff my hand.
And this is Festus, the golden horse shown below.
He is in better shape now, under Clay's care.
The other horses treat him gently.
(Apologies for cutting their ears off; iPhone photo
so I couldn't compose very well in the bright sunlight, unable to see the screen.)
Ye Ol' Covered Up Barn
While surreptitiously crouching around attempting to remain hidden from the Wilson's phalaropes, avocets, and Great Blue heron, I came upon a very, very old barn. At some time along the way, someone covered up the old wooden walls with corrugated zinc, preparing my canvas for today (who cleverly, if I may say so myself, carried my infrared camera along with my binoculars).
Monday, May 13, 2013
Goatsbeard
Another lovely bloom at this time of year, the Goatsbeard, Tragopogon; my Wildflowers of Texas and my Horton's Third tell me that this flower was introduced from Europe, is native there, in North Africa, and in Asia, and that it has now become "wild" in the United States.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Horned Lizard Among Flowers
Foxglove, page 290, Wildflowers of Texas, by Geyata Ajilvsgi.
Sandy Brazoria, page 254, Wildflowers of Texas.
Powderpuff, page 248, Wildflowers of Texas; Pink Sensitive Brier, page 116, Texas Wildflowers, A Field Guide by Campbell and Lynn Loughmiller.
Green Milkweed, page 14, Wildflowers of Texas.
Prickly Pear, page 80, Texas Wildflowers, revised edition.
Hedgehog Cactus, page 70, Texas Wildflowers.
Crameria, page 254, Wildflowers of Texas.
Basketflower, page 306, Wildflowers of Texas.
The yuccas begin to flower.
Near the plants shown above, I spotted a horned lizard, naturally, the only sojourn from my truck without my camera. After dashing to retrieve my camera, I returned to look for the horned lizard, but doggies and I spooked him under some yucca plants -- as we thundered up the hill, excitedly. Remembering General McArthur's words I say, "We shall return," camera in hand!
Also seen on this day: collared and prairie lizards.
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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.