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 . . .

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Gnome in Diner


Love diners. Do not love the pain in my belly after eating the food. Sally said the oil they use to cook affects her belly, too. I adore the romantic notions now behind Route 66, its diners, and all that they imply: A part of Americana that is cherished by many people; a part of Americana that entices some folks to hop in car and drive to other states down Route 66, stopping at diners for a friendly experience while they rest from the images flashing past as they roll down the highways.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Slideshow

Evelyn sent me a slideshow of beautiful photographs. Don't know who took them to thank her/him. I began to wonder about what she had to do to put herself in the position to take these wonderful photos. There is a clue in the mention in one of the captions of a snowmobile. Click on link above to watch the slideshow.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

At Photo Club


We practiced Black & White photography this evening at our local photography club. Indy explained that for digital we can fiddle with the contrast during post processing on the computer. This is my fave photo, black & and white or color.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Gnome at Sunset


I went out to the lake to photograph the sunset when a fisherman appeared with his net. I told him that if he stopped by the Wild Bird Rescue Center nearby, he would find some of the photos I took of him. I like to share my photos with my subjects.


A nice man brought an injured pigeon to Wild Bird Rescue Center. I had just finished practicing photography. While chatting with BirdManBob the man drove up in a Cadillac. "Maybe he'll donate some money," I said to BirdManBob. The man handed us a pet carrier containing a white pigeon. He said his dog had caught her and that he'd chased the dog around for a while. BirdManBob lead him inside the center. When folks bring injured birds, they fill out a form with information on the bird's situation, such as where they found it, what more or less occurred to cause its injuries, and then if they wish they include their address. Sometimes they leave a donation. Inside the nursing room in the center, I held the pigeon while BirdManBob checked her for injuries, then dabbed antibiotic ointment on her wound, after which he weighed her, and then tucked her in her cage. Aside from looking frightened, I think she'll do okay.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Bird Doo on Gnome's Car


Someone buy my T-bird so that I can park my station wagon in the garage again.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

Gnome's Afternoon with Hodge


Time spent as a blur: Time goes by fast when you are having fun.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Good Grief, Goes Gnome


This is a photo of one of the fellows with whom I share my crop of pecans every year. Since we had a bumper crop this year, we had enough to take to Jean and Jack, who nibble on pecans every day for breakfast.


A large monument marks the original resting place of long gone -- but never forgotten -- cousin William.


The marker for an unknown departed seemed especially thought-provoking.


Good Grief! Not sellable, and so I remain the proud owner of this thing. No one wanted it as much as I do, and it reflected in the final amount at the auction: Not even close to its Blue Book value, which is the least I expected. Fine, I'll keep it in my garage and I will do so gladly, for surely I have better business sense than to let go of this car for a pittance.

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.