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 . . .

Sunday, August 27, 2017

Dinosaur Valley State Park

Link to the interpretive guide to Dinosaur Valley.

     Water covered the tracks. Consistent moisture during the past three years has kept Texas out of a once-lingering drought. 

     "Come back during a drought," said a hiker who came upon me huddling under a large tree during the rain. "The most impressive tracks are these," he said, showing me their location on his wet map. "But you can only see them when the water is low, and you have to find a way to cross the river."

     "Do you know how to get to these tracks here?" I pointed to a location on my map that showed a bend in the Paluxy River. 
     "That map sucks," he said. "It doesn't show the paths very well. We are here," he said, pointing to his map, "and you need to walk that way." His finger followed a path marked on his increasingly wet map. "Here, keep this map. It'll help you get back. Sorry it's drenched." 

     I covered my camera with the wet map to protect it from the large rain drops falling from the tree above me. Water poured from the tip of my wide-brimmed hat.

                                             

                                                       
      Hurricane Harvey happened to arrive, devastatingly, to the Texas coast, bringing rain to the area.

My reflection on the surface of the water as I peer over the barrier to admire a theropod track print. 

Signs that describe the depositional layers and where the dinosaurs roamed 140 million years ago. 

The rock bridge that leads to some of the tracks.

The arrow points to a track print under the layers of deposition.

Just to the right of the sign, one can see some theropod tracks. 

Better view of the theropod tracks.

Other tracks, more recent, included some from turkey and raccoon.

A hole along the Paluxy River.

Paluxy River.

The arrow shows someone's pile of rocks (piled about a foot high).

Bull nettle and seed pods.

Cardinal flower growing alongside bishop's weed (I think), along the Paluxy River. 

Seed pods.

An old, old fence along one of the paths.

As soon as the rain became a drizzle, I stepped on the rocks to photographs the view of the limestone layers along the river.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Storm Build Over Abandoned Cessna


Partial Eclipse

Update: Photographs by Jake Kwong (top) and NASA (showing the ISS passing in front of the sun during the eclipse).



* * * * * 

 Sunspots.

Partial eclipse.

Monday, August 14, 2017

WWII Airborne Demonstration Team

Link to their Web site: WWIIIIADT



    World War II B-25 pilots trained at the Frederick, Oklahoma air field. The hangar they built way back then, in 1941, stands still, with its massive lumber beams holding it steadfast against time. In 1951, the air field became the city's regional airport. 

    The demonstration team trains there. Twice per year, they hold events at the air field to show the abilities of the parachutists, and the impressive aircraft, the C-47, which takes them aloft for their jumps.

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.