Except as noted, all images copyrighted by and should be attributed to E. Bourland 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 . . .

Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Tuesday, November 13, 2018

Sunset, Trees, and Sky

While MyMrMallory cooked our meal on the grill, the sky above him looked pretty.

A Pile of Seed Heads Blown by the Wind Against a Hangar

Winds swirled just right to make a neat pile against someone's hangar.

Saturday, November 3, 2018

The Pumpkin Plummet at Wichita Valley Airport

Aircraft lined up on the ramp before the bombing begins.

Under a lovely sky, I walked across the field to photograph the pumpkin bombing target, a moped placed in the middle of a large yellow X. 

A charming moped serves as the target of the pumpkin bombing. In the distance, we can see the wind sock indicating a strong crosswind from the west. 

Closer view of the moped with the hangars in the background. 

I enjoyed walking around the target looking at the beautiful gourd flowers at my feet, and the beautiful sky above me. 

Pete pilots the Citabria as Jim, his bombardier, sits behind him, focussed on his task.

The Wichita Valley Airport every year hosts a charming event, the Pumpkin Plummet.

Let Lovely Turn of Phrase Begin

Give 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.