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 . . .

Sunday, December 30, 2007

Gnome on a Sunday


My Dachsund often looks sweet, or I could think he looks guilty. I think it depends on my perceptions.


Kisses kept me company while I read Harold Bloom's "The Art of Reading Poetry."


Hodge, though, felt much more interested in Seamus Heaney's translation of "Beowulf."


I was instructed by my squirrel-chasing spaniel to look up this tree at a squirrel. The squirrel hid well. I don't see him: Do you? I see it helps to have a good nose.


I'm dabbling more in abstract and thought this image would work okay.


Off Hodge traipsed for more squirrel chasing.


This leaf all by itself reflected the beauty of nature.


My Mr. Mallory and I drove my '63 Thunderbird for the last time today. It goes into auction on New Year's Day. Hate, just hate to see it go, but I need someone who will give it more TLC to own it. As it is, it just sits in my garage while I drive the vehicle I prefer to drive, the Jaguar.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Speechless Gnome

Bhenazir Bhutto (1953-2007)

Photo from Reuters

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Gnome under Mistletoe


My Mr. Mallory got a kiss from me under the mistletoe pictured here.

Monday, December 24, 2007

Gnome in Tune

I tagged along with the choir and took photographs.


My friend lays her head back as she sings, beautifully, "Silent Night" while Helen and her family listen from inside her home.


Forster leads the group while ringing the bells.


Father looks surprised.


This is my favorite photograph.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Gnome at Beaks End


I photographed BirdManBob medicating a female Great Horned Owl. He and Marty made sure that she can fly now, after spending a few days at Wild Bird Rescue recuperating from her injuries.

The Great Horned Owl was found caught in barbed wire. A lady rescued her and brought her to us. Today she will release the owl in the same place she found her. Remarkable looking creature.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Gnome in the Garden

I sat outside this evening and admired the colors of the leaves enhanced by the rays of the setting sun.

Hodge romped but stood still, momentarily, for a snapshot.

My fellow gnome, shown here sitting on a gazebo, is also a birdwatcher and one who looks after them. Here I show him as he looks through a pair of binoculars at the bird feeders near the back door.

I took pictures as Mr. Mallory grilled a swordfish steak for our supper this evening. Before darkness, I noted the sunset looked remarkable, as it does often in Texas. I could see some of the colors through the branches of the trees that surround me. After the sun set, the lights lit up the trees.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Gnome Will Meet with Fellow Wufflers

"Is our town 'guerrillarized' enough in the arts?" You've heard of the "Guerrilla Girls" or is it the "Gorilla Girls?" Not sure about the spelling in spite of their strong and cherished message; I do feel sure, though, that Schnauzer seems one of the most enthusiastic aritistic editors I may every know. He has a cover for our issue, out in June I hope, already. My fellow Wufflers Schnauzer, Badger and Larkspur will gather with me on Thursday for what I predict will be a delightful banter about our work. I will update them on the groundwork Badger and I have done recently and then settle in to sip tea and enjoy listening to their plans. What a grand group has come together for the benefit of our artists, authors and community members!

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Another Woman Having Fun


Image from wpra.com.


Image from cowgirl.net.


Image from bbhc.org.

"Dad says, 'Babe, you better watch him, he's a little stout.' Well, that should have warned me because dad never warned me of anything. You just get on and take your bumps," she said. "Holy moly, old Bashful Boy popped me back off my rigging and took my heels and he threw me so hard I plowed a furrow you could have planted potatoes in. Dad's version of it was, 'That horse threw her so high the birds planted a nest in her pocket before she hit the ground.' -- said Jan Youren, who retired from rodeoing at age 64, a six-time Rodeo Champion.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Gnome and the Wichitans



The sculpture near Texhoma Cycling Center looks especially beautiful under fog.


Soos's tree looked magical today, as if aside from the fog there is something magical in the air today.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Gnome has Soup and Sandwich with Ellen

To paraphrase Ellen: "You are my only friend who has nothing to do with anything I do." And she's right. To describe how we met, we happened to take the same tour once to OKC, then met in a bar there for a cup of coffee before our bus headed back to our hometown. And so we talk about everything, not just one thing. Yesterday she gave me a bottle, empty, into which she pushed lights. It brightens up a corner of my kitchen, and it is wonderful to know where it came from.

Saturday, December 1, 2007

Gnome Heads to Kamchatka

Thinking upon setting sail to Kamchatka (on the Clipper Odyssey) I googled it to find a nice web site developed by a nice fellow named Andrew Logan. Take a look at http://www.kamchatkapeninsula.com/

Gnome Beside the Court





This morning members of the photography club gathered at the public library to set up our exhibit. I took along a light blue cloth, a couple of old cameras, and un-framed pictures of women that I took during my travels. The other kids took large framed photos of their work, so my 5x6s seemed to fill in some of the corners here and there. I wish I could have included some of the nice photos I took of the lovely athletes at the ball game this evening.

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.