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 . . .

Monday, July 29, 2013

A Dog Having Fun

     In the dappled shade provided by a tall oak in my garden, the grass grows lush, and remains soft, moist, and cool, just enough for a little doggie to feel compelled to roll in it.


Thanks to Wichita Valley, I come upon lovely flowers in my garden.

Sunday, July 28, 2013

First Peach

       From my garden, I harvested one peach, pictured above, and two figs, all three of which somehow ripened in spite of the squirrels in the area.

Looks Like a Scarlet Gaura, Limpy

Friday, July 26, 2013

Formation Flying for Bob

     When invited to fly in the right seat of an aircraft that would fly formation, I emotionally dropped to my knees and pleaded with MyMrMallory to attend an appointment without me so that I could fly. All the groveling was unnecessary, of course, for he would have happily sent me on my way to the airport, but that is the extent I may reach to fly. Especially to experience something I have not before in my life.
     H.-P. flew his Piper Arrow Turbo, the Stallion, alongside Martin's Grumman, the Cheetah, and Jim's Cessna Skyhawk, the Frog. All they needed, I thought, was me in my Scissortail to bring up the rear.
     I sat in the world's worst position for aerial photographic documentation of the event. Still, I managed some images that showed the beauty of that flight, and came home hoping I had not disturbed H.-P. with my lens hovering near him.
     Watching H.-P. fly as part of the formation helped me to realize how difficult the process may be. He focussed intensely on the Frog's right wing, while at the same time he scanned his instruments. I have a deeper appreciation of the difficulties of formation flying.
     And how must have the formation of three looked to the bereaved attending the burial service 500 feet below us? I thought, everyone is crying harder now for their loved one, Bob, seeing this assorted crew of aircraft honoring the departed fellow. One sees military aircraft fly-overs, remarkable in their power and speed, impressive in their symmetry; here three good friends of Bob flew different airplanes at 80 knots to celebrate his life. That's one of the things flying is all about.

   Robert George Sturgis, Sr., 81, of Wichita Falls, passed away on Tuesday, July 23, 2013. Graveside services will be at 3 PM on Friday, July 26, 2013, in the Garden of Compassion at Crestview Memorial Park, with Rev. Harvey McMurry officiating. Arrangements are under the direction of Lunn's Colonial Funeral Home. 
   Robert, Sr., was born November 10, 1931, to George and Rosemary Sturges, in Staten Island, NY. He was married to Gladys Sturges for 50 years upon her death. He later was remarried to Sandra Sturges. Her large family came to care for him as a father and grandfather.
   Robert, Sr., was a member of the United States Air Force for 20 years and the Civil Service for 15 years as an instructor in jet engines. Following his retirement, he became a licensed pilot, ground, and flight school instructor and a licensed mechanic on light aircraft. He worked many years at Kickapoo Air Park. Robert, Sr., loved teaching, working on airplanes, and telling jokes. 
    Survivors include his wife Sandra of Wichita Falls, three sons, Robert J. Sturges, and wife Shirley, of Irving, Texas, Thomas Sturges, of Springfield, Missouri, and Larry Sturges and wife, Tena, of Lakeside City, Texas, his sister Marge McPherson of Lawrence, MA, eight grandchildren, and five great-grandchildren. 
    In lieu of flowers, the family requests memorials be made to Hospice of Wichita Falls. 

Thursday, July 25, 2013

A Cadet Earns His Pilot's License

    Cadet Crimson earned his Private Pilot's License this afternoon. He is a member of the Civil Air Patrol, and the first in his unit to earn a license.

Mary, the examiner, pins pilot's wings on his uniform.

Posing with Mom with the CAP plane in the background.

Signing the document.

Interview with KFDX.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Calves in the Shade

Have to wonder how long these batteries will remain upright with the erosion around them. Two calves take advantage of the shade in ninety-five degree temperatures, mild for these parts of Texas.

Summer Clouds and Grasshoppers

Grasshoppers sit on a t-post along a wheat field. 

Saturday, July 20, 2013

To Re-visit Turner Falls

      This image I took in autumn of last year shows a place worthy of a re-visit, especially after the area received rain. Turner Falls Park.

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Wide Angle Up Close

   I felt encouraged by AShepherdsHome to use my wide angle lens for close-up photography. Initial attempts point to a promising endeavor.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

We Call this a Drought?

Gulf fritillary sups on the nectar of a Turk's Cap.

Larkspur still blooms.

Bermuda grass grows underneath a blooming Texas sage bush (of all things).

These plants have continued to grow with no water from me at all, and grow only on the rain fall we've received, a scant more than ten inches this year, seven below normal. 

Round Robin and IFR to ADS

  Piper, the airport cat at Kickapoo, did not appear impressed when I told her about my practice flights. 

          Thursday, H-P. and I jumped in the Bonanza and flew to Bridgeport, Breckenridge, Graham, landing in all three airports, then to Olney, where we pretended to land, throttling up at just 100 feet AGL for a go around. Flaps up, and on positive rate of climb, gear up, we headed back home, one eye on the iPad showing the storms, and the other up ahead where the storms were brewing. While happy to see our area receiving rain, it is not the place for a little airplane to be flying. 

Off my port side wing, Lake Kickapoo at less than thirty-five percent capacity.

Off my nose, Lake Wichita, a mud puddle now. 

We flew around a rain shaft . . . 

. . .  and underneath a rainbow to arrive home. 

        Still not impressed, Piper listened, anyway, as I continued my story. 

Lake Arrowhead at less than thirty-five percent capacity on Friday as we returned home from Addison. 

        With MyMrMallory's help, I logged in to Flight Plan and filed IFR to Addison. I insisted that I would fly AND talk to ATC, two very difficult things to do together. H.-P., patient as ever, and encouraging as ever, discussed every detail with me before we took off. I surprised myself by how easy it has become after perseverance and preparation. 

The nose of my plane and the plane's reflection on the glass of the FBO at Addison, Million Air. 

Million Air provides E-class Mercedes Benz as crew cars we may borrow for a couple of hours. El Julio's is a good place for lunch, but wear earplugs while you enjoy good tacos and soups. 

         Taking off from Addison was ferociously busy. ATC had us climbing at 1,000 feet per minute in order to avoid DFW air space. Flying over DFW airport was thrilling, watching the airlines from above as they climbed after takeoff to 30,000 feet, small silver bullets against the city backdrop.


Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Remarkable Release of Kestrel

   A most remarkable, nay, they are all remarkable. Let me try again: Another remarkable release of a bird today at Wild Bird Rescue. Mr Craft, having donated a considerable amount of money, was invited to release an American Kestrel. In fact, he and his grandson released two American Kestrels. I was invited to take pictures, lucky me. Watching a release is always a dazzling experience.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Happy Motorcyclist

     She was all by herself. Maybe she saw my camera in the truck, and she is smiling because of it, and because she was doing what she was wanting to do, and that is a good thing, on a Harley or anything else. I watched her drive down the road as far as I could see, which can be pretty far in North Texas. 

Update: "Doin' the Lord's work," said Jim, about the happy motorcyclist.

Grasshopper on Cactus

Larkspur and Sunflower

     The larkspur, surrounded by wilting plants, continues to flower, a pleasure for these eyes during this drought period.

     And here is another volunteer in my garden, a Maximillian sunflower plant, also thriving on little rain.

Friday, July 5, 2013


Circus Woman, My Sister

    She sat cross-legged on the bench, her jaws tensed, her eyes narrowed, as if she barely tolerated her circumstances, the people around her. Occasionally she glanced at a child jumping in the bouncer, then at the other people in the county fair.  Popcorn was sold, along with sugar candy, and parents bought that stuff for their unsuspecting children, who, in their naiveté, gorged. That's what she saw, I think, or her thoughts took her eyes elsewhere.
    I watched her with pain: Listen to the expression, "There go I but for the grace of God," uttered by your voice. I deduced that she traveled with the circus that had just come to town, and that she lived in a trailer, closed quarters and modestly, and that in between her hard work and long days she had no time to visit the museums or art galleries or culture of all the places to which her circus travelled, and that something else, abuse of any kind, in her life, made her feel bitter, understandably, and thus she held her lips tight, and her eyes narrowed to the world. She is my sister.

Gourd Flower

Prevalent along the edges of some wheat fields in North Texas. 

Two Yucca Plants Blooming

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.