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 . . .

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Jacksboro

Found myself in the town of Jacksboro. I looked around to see some things I hadn't spotted before as I drove through.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

City of Fort Worth Old Town Charm


In 1892, Fort Worth's Woman's Humane Society erected the Horse Fountain. It sits on the corner next to the courthouse. Walking around it, I noted an engraved message honoring Samuel Benton Cantey (1861-1924) identifying him as a pioneer attorney and one who watered his horse at this fountain. The Horse Fountain was re-dedicated in 1999. Engraved on its side are the names of the people who made possible the restoration, including Marguerite Coburn who, it indicates, saved the horse.

N Scott Momaday


Bear, the poet, attended the Mayborn conference this month. Always charmed by the magic of his words.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Next Up: Gnome's Georgia


Sent my entry fee today to the Oklahoma City Concours d'Elegance in September. Feeling low-key and non-competitive, so I entered Georgia in the Driven class. Probably Cliff will move her up to Championship class, and then I'll feel some stress caused by my competitive spirit. I should curb that and enjoy the competition anyway! My Mr. Mallory has already agreed to attend with me, and good thing that he will be on my team: no one can buff a car as meticulously as he can to make it look perfectly shiny.

I entered Tex, too. I always feel up to entering Tex in competition. However, it becomes more difficult to win as time goes by, though, because I have to compete against the boys who buy a new Jaguar every year; so every time they simply drive off the show room floor and into their slot at the concours. Their car is impeccable, while mine shows a little wear here and there -- and that's the way it should be for one who loves her Jaguars. Well, maybe there won't be any brand spanking new Jaguars this year. Either way, no stress will be felt!

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Out for a Spin on the Honda

One thousand fifteen hundred and fifty cubic centimeters of power: I sat on a Honda Valkyrie motorcycle this evening and rode as if on a cloud floating down the road. I'd forgotten what it felt like, the interaction of that machine and me, and the road and the wind displaced by the windshield, the wide berth allowed to me by gawking motorists when they see a woman on a large machine. I had forgotten how much I miss my husband on our road trips, all the motorcycles he had, and that this one was his last, so new when he died. At the fuel station I pretended my tears were caused by the wind.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Tom Danaher and the Jenny



They flew, determinedly, this morning against fourteen-mile per hour winds, Tom and the Jenny, both still as strong today as when they were younger.

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.