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 . . .
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
To the Shop
On a day when I decided not to fly on account of the strong winds, MyMrMallory walks in my office and declares, "Bobby wants the planes this afternoon." A studied look at the weather, followed by a quick jaunt to the airport, and off we flew to the mechanic's shop, he in his aerobat for radio repairs, and I in the Bonanza to bring him back home. I realized for the first time that I've become handy to another pilot now that I have a pilot's license, similar to having someone pick you up at the shop when you drop off your car for repairs, except that this particular shop is seventy-eight nautical miles south of town.
"I got lost," MyMrMallory said, after landing. No functioning radios in his plane meant flying with a map, which he confessed he'd held upside-down, east and west on the wrong sides of north and south." First there was Lake Arrowhead, then there was Archer City, then Graham, and then . . . and then . . . I got lost."
I indulged with the iPhone app, OldPicture, to finish the images I took along the way, and what a beautiful way it was with several layers of clouds.
Bobby signals the aerobat to park.
Bonanza waits for the return flight home.
Several decks of clouds.
North Texas from 5,500 feet in the late afternoon.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Nice Day for La Madeleine
Another nice and clear day for flying. Such is life in North Texas.
Dallas skyline in the distance and the historic Love Field in the foreground.
The propellers of the airplane show up as bars across the screen
when the image is made by a cellphone.
While in Dallas, we had lunch at La Madeleine. Smart thing to do!
Tomato basil soup, a croissant with tuna salad, a Caesar's salad, and a mug of coffee.
Brought home some soup for Dotti, and coffee for us.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Ponds, New and Old, from the Air
Grasses and other plants cover the sides of the roads.
The pens, middle of picture at right, made a soft landing area on its grass for our helicopter.
North Texas looks green this autumn, and new (to me) flowers have bloomed.
A joy.
In the middle of a wheat field, a newly-dredged pond starts to retain water, thanks to the recent rains.
An old pond might return to its former size after several years of drought.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Four-o-clock, Perhaps?
Would you consider that "gorgeous flower" sounds redundant? I came upon this flower by chance, by taking a different path after a moment's decision. What a joy. "Uncommon," said Paul. "I'm guessing it's in the four-o-clock family (nyctagineceae)."
Monday, October 14, 2013
Rat Snake on Cracking Road
Still as a statue, the snake waited for me to leave.
I pondered, what scares me more, the snake, or the drought-cracked asphalt?
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Indian Rushpea
In her book, Wildflowers of Texas, Geyata Ajilsvgi notes that the Indian Rushpea "forms large tubers about 6 inches underground which are sometimes used for food for hogs, thus giving it another common name, hog peanut." She adds that the native Americans gathered and roasted the tubers. Sounds yummy, until you read further: "A common Spanish name is camote de raton, meaning, 'mouse's sweet potato.'"
Note the mound of soil in the background of the photograph? That is a prairie dog den.
Note the mound of soil in the background of the photograph? That is a prairie dog den.
Wednesday, October 9, 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.