Pitts landing at F14.
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 . . .
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Sawleaf Daisy, Coreopsis, Silverleaf Nightshade
Alongside runway 35 at Kickapoo airport there grow abundantly some summer flowers.
MyMrMallory stopped, I slipped out of my Jon Van Zyle flip-flops and into my boots, then walked amid the flowers to enjoy the opportunity for hand-held photography.
Runway 35, to the left and barely visible, lays underneath the afternoon clouds.
Saw-leaf Daisy.
Coreopsis.
Silver-leaf Nightshade.
Volunteers in My Garden: Ipomoea
When Paul lay rocks along my wall, and enhanced them by some of the plants he brought, a stowaway joined the garden, a thriving one.
Supper on Snow-on-the-mountain
The forb, Snow-on-the-mountain grows from July to October. The name of this euphorbia comes from the resemblance of a snowy mountain with they spread across a hill, which they do from Central to East Texas on both dry and moist soil. Its sap is poisonous. The plant provides food for insects, such as the ones I spotted on this stand of them, stone flies wasps, daubers, flower flies, grasshoppers, and a handful of Queen butterflies.
Nearby the stand of Snow-on-the-mountain, sunflowers continue to thrive into late August, though some show signs of chomps from insects, such as this one below.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Stevie as Dracula
Earlier this year, Katie rescued two nestling Great-horned owls that had hopped out of their nest, a barrel in a barn. Sickened by West Nile virus, one of them died, and the other became blind. The blind one is growing up at Wild Bird Rescue.
Wild Bird Rescue is planning a party in late October.
Stevie attended their first meeting and got into the spirit of Halloween.
Here is the post-processed image of Stevie:
Falls Flyover Sunrise
The city of Wichita Falls, founded in the late 1800s, has a rich history in aviation. The workforce Sheppard Air Force Base, coming from all over the nation and world, infuses the community with dynamic new culture. In addition, Sheppard collaborates generously with the city in maintaining the municipal airport, soon to become regional airport. A nearby airport, Kickapoo, receives a large number of aircraft daily, from Cubs to Citations, and is the meeting place of the "Ol' Codgers" group of pilots, veterans of past wars, or not, who enjoy talking shop. Hobbyists devoted to aviation hangar their aircraft at Wichita Valley airport. On the edge of Lake Wichita, there lies a runway, now covered with growth, with buildings and hangars at the southwest end, still shown on a sectional as the Tom Danaher airport, where during Tom's younger years pilots would gather every weekend.
It came as no surprise to me, and I felt charmed by it, that the community in 2007 chose to call the newly-constructed highway ramps "Falls Flyover." Here is an iPhone image I took as we "flew" over one of the ramps. In the background, we see the Attebury grain elevators built in the early Twentieth century by Jack Kemp.
It came as no surprise to me, and I felt charmed by it, that the community in 2007 chose to call the newly-constructed highway ramps "Falls Flyover." Here is an iPhone image I took as we "flew" over one of the ramps. In the background, we see the Attebury grain elevators built in the early Twentieth century by Jack Kemp.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Painted Bunting
The folks at Wild Bird Rescue rehabilitated this painted bunting and then released it back into the wild.
Aerobat Landing
Picture of MyMrMallory landing his acrobatic airplane, squeaking upon the runway, maintaining the nose wheel up for a couple hundred yards. So that's how to land!
Friday, August 16, 2013
The Rain Fell, Two Inches
At four o'clock in the morning a bucket-full of rain fell on North Texas. It was a kind storm in my neighborhood, with not-too-strong winds and a steady pitter-patter on our new roof.
A rarely seen sight around these parts: Two inches and more of rain in one rain.
The lake rose a bit with two inches, and may rise a bit more during the next few days.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Nests on a Wire Bridge
On a suspension bridge carrying an oil line over the Wichita River, vultures (I think) found a place to roost, one with a good view.
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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.