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, December 31, 2015

Locks at the Gate

 
     Farms and ranches require many people . . . and locks. 

Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Cattle and Horses at the Barn

      In the mornings, cattle and horses emerge from the pastures, have a bite to eat, sip some tea or coffee, chat about the day's plans, then lumber back into the pastures.




Sunday, December 27, 2015

Gull Against 40-knot Winds

   Swooping over the choppy surface of Lake Kickapoo, a gull flew against the strong winds.


Red Peninsula on Lake Kickapoo

      On a rainy, misty day, soon to turn snowy, I noted the clay-colored water and the red grass on the shore of Lake Kickapoo contrasting with the grays of the rest of the landscape.

Rocks Laid Carefully in a Pile


Thursday, December 24, 2015

Sneaking Up on Sandhill Cranes

     On a desperately windy day, the Sandhill Cranes could neither see me or hear me as I, in my characteristic finesse, stomped my way across the wheat field toward them. Hiding myself behind the bern of a pond, I crawled toward the cranes. I could hear their delightful banter, that low guttural sound that one hears and recognizes right away, even from miles away.



From my position behind the bern, I watched the flock of about one thousand through dormant sunflower and other plants. They chatted, ate, and danced.


Then, one of them became quite suspicious.


A couple of them decided to fly over me, the interloper whose hat and lens peer over the bern.



They sounded the alarm.



Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Crawfish Chimney

Interesting information, fun to read, too, about crawfish and their mounds at the America's Wetlands Foundation website.

Crawfish chimney.

Wallace Pond.
I borrowed the background with the clouds from another image, and merged the two together. Pollution in the background image looked so odd, that I decided to convert to black and white.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Monday, December 14, 2015

Peace Rose

In the garden, after an early morning rain.

Duck Pond on a Still Day


    Spotted: Kingfisher, Lesser Yellowlegs, Killdeer, woodpecker, meadowlarks, quail, Buffleheads, Loggerhead Shrikes, White-capped sparrows, Red-tailed hawk, crows. The image above is actually two images, one of the pond (lower half) and one borrowed from the other day (top half) with the nice cloud formations.


     The three trees are flooded when usually they stand in a nice, grassy peninsula. I hope they survive.

Higher ground on the peninsula, the two trees are loaded with berries.



Thursday, December 10, 2015

Oranges and Reds in My Garden




Of Fairways, Sunsets, and Strobes

Popped in the golf course to view the sunset.

Trees, upper clouds, and condensation trails add to the beauty.

      I place my camera and tripod with an eye to the bridge (seen at foreground) before I note the steeple in the distance, framed by the trees. It is a fortuitous happenstance. I hastily retrieve my long lens and make the photo shown above. 

    To my left, the halfway house still lit up with activity, stands underneath pink clouds. My smoky lens gives the image its hazy look.

     In this image (and I won't ask you to squint your eyes to see it), MyMrMallory's plane turns to left base as he lands on runway three five. I did not expect him home so soon, another fun serendipitous happenstance this evening. And HOW do I know it is his plane? It has strobes so bright that one could not miss him even from outer Space. His arrival added to my delight.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015

Wichita Mountains Sixty Miles Away

In the foreground, Lake Wichita, 
with Kemp Boulevard pointing toward the Wichita Mountains.
Unusually crisp day for a flight, with smooth air.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

The Ponds with their Own Beauty

Four small trees along the bank.

Afternoon sun on cacti and pond.

A rainy year flooding the grasses. 
(We appreciate the increased moisture.)

Monday, December 7, 2015

Video of Flying the Grob


   
At my site, I posted a fun video I whipped up after I flew 
in the left seat with Gunther. Flying the Grob.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

Lichen, Moss, Stone Art







Grob

I saw an interesting aircraft today. Interesting information about it at Wikipedia, Grob 120.

Wing tip with the fuselage in the background.

Flying into the sun.

Pilot Gunther flew from Canada to South America, then to Texas, returning to Canada.

A happy Uwe after landing.



Thursday, December 3, 2015

Ibises


Glossy or White-faced, I asked Terry.
You can say glossy and you'd be half right, she said. 
Archer County.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Beaver at Work


Taking a close look at the base of this tree, 
I noted that a beaver has gnawed around its trunk.


Saturday, November 28, 2015

Bluejay's Bird Bath

Ready to jump in the water.

Splashing.

Resting.

Splashing.




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.