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, June 15, 2013
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Missus Parkey's House
We have a long way to go to save this poor thing. The roof is caving in, so it has become our priority.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Combines Harvesting: A Primer
At this time of year, combines begin harvesting grain, beginning in Texas, and work their way into Oklahoma, Kansas, and farther north.
Combine harvesting wheat. See Wikipedia's interesting explanation of combines.
When the combine's grain tank is full, the tractor catches up, driving under the cylinder that will deliver the wheat into the trailer it pulls.
Driving side by side, the combine delivers wheat grain into the trailer; at the same time, it continues to reap, thresh, and winnow. The trailer, once full, transports the wheat to trucks waiting on the field.
Eventually, the waiting trucks, full of wheat, rumble off the field and drive to a grain storage site.
At the storage site, a probe suctions some of the wheat for testing.
The driver turns the knob to open the truck's containers. The wheat falls between the bars . . .
. . . goes through the door at the bottom of the receptacle . . .
. . . and is transported by this elevator to the top of the storage silos.
Close-up view of the grain silos.
The grain that missed falling through the bars is swept into the receptacle.
A bucket full of the test grain also goes into storage.
MyMrMallory drove into the wheat field to get a closer view of the combines.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Great Horned Owl, Nestling
Mr. Ayres allowed me a few moments with a couple of nestlings nesting in his barn.
They nested inside a barrel, the one watching us, not too concerned about our distance of only six yards. I felt pleased to witness these amazing creatures, and doubly for having a long lens.
Here s/he is peering over the edge of the barrel as we approached.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Friday, May 31, 2013
Earning Endorsements
I just about sputtered this morning. Looking at my sources of weather information, I saw in big, bold, and red letters: Windshear. While the automated weather observations system at the airport indicated winds at eight knots, sky clear, visibility ten miles, the terminal area forecast showed winds of over fifteen knots gusting to twenty-six, with a ceiling of 1,800 in some parts, and 3,500 broken in others. Confused about the data, I waited to see what Martin would say.
It was so marvelous to me to find a hole in the clouds and fly through it to the top. I had done this before, but today was infinitely more memorable; and then when Martin announced that I earned my complex aircraft and high performance aircraft endorsements, my spirit soared.
"It was a perfect day for earning my endorsements," I said to him.
"Why? It was bumpy and windy!" That is why, I thought to myself.
"It's perfect weather for flying!" he said. "Let's go do touch-and-goes!"
It was so marvelous to me to find a hole in the clouds and fly through it to the top. I had done this before, but today was infinitely more memorable; and then when Martin announced that I earned my complex aircraft and high performance aircraft endorsements, my spirit soared.
"It was a perfect day for earning my endorsements," I said to him.
"Why? It was bumpy and windy!" That is why, I thought to myself.
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Young White-winged Doves Roosting on a Wall
Surreptitiously moving from tree to tree, camera in hand, I approached two juvenile white-winged doves sitting atop a wall. Interesting to note that their plumage develops around the necessary wings, then around their necks and heads.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Old Ol' Covered Wagon
What a delight to come upon an old wagon in the grass. What surprise! "Must be over hundred years old," said Clay, and then added, "Don't know how it got there." Thistle and nightshade flowers surrounded the old wagon.
Prolific Pricklys
The prickly pear cacti bloom impressively this year.
I hope to have images of them at full bloom in a week or so.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Future Fritillaries
Larvae on the passionflower in my garden.
Update: After a nice rain, the passionflowers opened . . . While I have counted thirty-two passionflowers opened, today I saw five, which is equally as beautiful.
And below I show a larva dangling from the passionflower vine. Could not resist capturing this image.
Friday, May 24, 2013
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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.