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 . . .
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Room for Possums
Our mission: Release two captive young possums back to the wild. Penny met us at Wild Bird Rescue with two possums. MyMrMallory and I loaded the crate containing the two fellows into the white jalopy, then drove into the countryside, as far away from civilization as humanly possible.
Along the way, we drove across fields of flowers. The countryside remains covered in flowers, delightfully. Cows watched us drive through the brush toward the lake.
Finally, we came to our destination, Duck Lake, where we released the two fellows.
Frogs hopped into the lake as we approached. No, we cannot see them in the photo above. I wish I could have spotted them before they disappeared into the water!
Hesitant, the possums remained in the soft bedding inside the cozy crate.
Slowly, they investigated, sniffing before every step they took, and then, together they ambled under the grove of trees, disappearing under the broom brush.
Friday, October 1, 2010
'Bows at Broken Bow
I adore trout and every single fish on Earth, and I adore my brother, but in the presence of each, I found myself enthralled by nature in the area of Broken Bow. If I caught Browns or 'Bows, I did so with more luck than skill, for my focus remained on my surroundings.
Bird life included several overhead flying ducks (Why did I leave my binoculars in the car!), Turkey and Black Vultures, Pileated Woodpecker, wrens, phoebes, and various, no, many hawks. Next trip: Return to Broken Bow with binoculars!
Bird life included several overhead flying ducks (Why did I leave my binoculars in the car!), Turkey and Black Vultures, Pileated Woodpecker, wrens, phoebes, and various, no, many hawks. Next trip: Return to Broken Bow with binoculars!
Jesse and Linda, from Three Rivers Fly Shop, work toward improving the rivers for the benefit of trout and anglers. Below I show some of the work they and the community of Broken Bow have accomplished on the river. Utilizing logs and stones, they shape pools and eddies, great for trout to thrive, and great to create a challenge for anglers.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Pump Jacks, Power Lines, and Birds
Driving along the Texas countryside with MyMrMallory,
I glimpsed egrets hanging around cattle and sunflowers.
I spotted pump jacks surrounded by summer flowers.
I may not like to see huge power lines traversing
farms and ranches, but the vultures seem to like to sit on them.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Ann My Rancher Friend
Ann, one of my fave persons, invited me to hop on behind her on her
All Terrain Vehicle to go see her new-born calves. Above I show her interacting with a Holstein.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Distracted by Nature
I particularly appreciate it when snakes play dead, instead of lunging at me, frightfully.
Above, a Scissortail Flycatcher standing on a Mesquite branch
observes me; another dives to catch an insect.
Mourning Dove.
At this time, Starlings grow into adulthood and change into their Fall plumage.
Flowers still abound in the countryside.
Prairie Dogs barked, alerting others of my presence.
The Burrowing Owls remained vigilant of a Northern Harrier hunting above the Prairie Dog town.
Of Birds
Nighthawk.
Fledgling Mississippi Kite.
Missi, Wild Bird Rescue's Avian Ambassador.
View Missi's Blog.
Killdeer.
A woodpecker hungrily accepts a worm from BirdManBob.
Mallard Duck (female).
And eager to eat all the cute little birds is a Cooper's Hawk!
A vulture will eat the left-overs, if any.
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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.