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, May 21, 2019
Friday, May 10, 2019
Friday, May 3, 2019
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Thursday, April 18, 2019
Sunday, April 7, 2019
Sunday, March 31, 2019
Caverns of Sonora
My photography tour guide, Bill Sawyer, light painted some of the cavern for us three photographers. We both felt particularly enchanted by the way the photo of this stalagmite looks.
Another light painted photo that I enjoyed making, in particular, shows a drapery-type speleothem, with the unusual red color nearby caused by Mr Sawyer's hand as he covered his flashlight to control the amount of light cast on the crystal.
There are so many formations and rooms in the Caverns of Sonora that made me feel in awe. Here I show the straw-like formations that hang from the ceiling light painted by Mr Sawyer.
Where ever we decided to go inside the Caverns, I insisted on returning to Halo Lake.
Various formations near Halo Lake, including the war clubs.
Draperies as if on fire near Halo Lake.
Crystals grow and grow in the live Caverns.
The Sponge Room.
Popcorn-like speleothems.
The Crystal Palace lit by Mr Sawyer's flashlight.
What a dream photography tour at the Caverns of Sonora. I had phoned them only a couple of weeks ahead of time to sign up. Both Bill Sawyer and Louise had recommended that I take the regular tour so that I could make notes on the various rooms and formations that I would like to photograph. Good suggestion, as it turned out in my experience.
Arriving on a Thursday, I took the regular tour with Betsy as a guide. I carried a camera with a normal lens -- cameras are encouraged -- and took so many pictures that my memory card filled up, only with a half hour into the tour. I had to learn to restrain myself after I deleted some of the pictures of the first part of the Caverns. So in awe I felt by the crystal formations.
On Friday, I again took a regular tour, and again with Betsy as a guide. This time, my camera had a long lens, giving me a chance to explore some close up shots. Betsy did beautifully with her cellphone camera, and I learned from her that I should next time bring my macro lens. The Caverns are live, still growing, and we can make images of droplets as they hang from stalactites, or as they fall upon a stalagmite, as Betsy recorded with her time lapse capability. She gave me some tips and hints and suggestions, all of which I appreciated and wrote down. By the next day, the day of my photo tour, I felt informed enough -- and I had simmered down enough to quit taking so many pictures! -- that I knew what to ask of Mr Sawyer.
To my delight, Mr Sawyer loves to light paint. Thus, many of my photographs look all the more special after making them as he held his flashlight, moving it back and forth over the formations, creating unique images.
In spite of my newly developed restraint, I returned home with close to 1,000 images. Going through them took me all week. So many that I printed are not shown here.
Speaking of printing: I consider printing my own images a great part of the joy I find in photography. By using an Epson P800, both Ilford and Red River papers (and being rather persnickety about the quality of the image) I have become a better photographer. In viewing the prints, which are of great quality from the Epson and these papers, I can see some of the mistakes I make during the process of capturing an image. My images have greatly improved.
The Caverns are on my schedule again, next time with an emphasis on macro photography. I am eager to return.
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Sunday, March 10, 2019
Sunday, March 3, 2019
Thursday, February 28, 2019
The Visit of a Falcon 900 EX at Kickapoo
Sipping coffee at the FBO, I looked outside the windows.
Naturally, camera in hand, I strolled outside for the opportunity to make an image.
The beacon remained lit in the dreary morning.
Later on, I positioned myself at the end of the runway, at an angle just so, that when the Falcon took off I could include the FBO in the photograph. I noted later that the Falcon had attracted visitors, some in the gray vehicle, and some standing near the fuel farm.
The Falcon lifted up right away, and climbed rapidly to the south.
Monday, February 25, 2019
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Friday, February 22, 2019
Friday, February 15, 2019
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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.