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, December 31, 2016

Wood Rat

The video shows a wood rat climbing upon her home to place a stick on her pile.

      Wood rats build their nests under prickly pear and other cacti, or underneath dead trees, remaining safe from the local predators, such as coyotes. They eat plant material, including the cacti. Often, I have seen the bites on the cactus leaves as I hiked around the countryside, and wondered until now which little creature of God munched on them. Curiosity compelled me to install a camera.

       The day before, noting an unusual pile of sticks and pieces of cow patties, I stopped to take a closer look. The sticks, twigs, and pieces of patties lay in an unusual position. At first I thought of the flooding that went throughout the area last year and the year before. During the heavy rains, tree trunks and other large objects stood against debris floating in the water; the debris formed a pile against them much like the one I studied and pictured below. Something about this pile, though, did not allow me to walk by it, for it did not appear to be caused by high waters.

     As I approached the pile, two small creatures hurried inside it through a couple of several entryways. Aha! Rodents lived in there. Above their home and in the crook of the dead tree, I noted a number of sticks laid in an organized way upon the branch, as we can see in the picture below.

      At the top of the dead tree, in a hole, branches of sage and other twigs lay as if in storage (below).

     See the nice article about the wood rat at the Mammals of Texas - Online Edition.

Monday, December 19, 2016

Rock with Gold

A tiny amount of gold within a stone.
4 cm x 2.5 cm x 2.3 cm.

Saturday, December 17, 2016

Last Full Moon of 2016

December 12, 2016, 6:07 P.M., the last Super Moon of the year rises above a little airplane.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

November 14th Super Moon In-camera Merge

     Wondering how other folks managed to take beautiful images of the super moon over a nice foreground, and wondering why some of the images looked truly exaggerated, I trekked over to visit Ben Jacobi. 
      "Ben, do people merge two photographs to make the images of the super moon?" I asked him, not knowing how else to begin the conversation. Of course they merge two images.
      "Oh, yes, you have to. In fact, I merged eighteen images for mine." 
      Truly impressive. Ben has an admirable work ethic and patience for each and every image. Indeed, I learned about exercising discipline during processing from Ben. 
       Feeling more confident about moon pictures, I returned to the Hardin Building at dusk, when I knew the lights of the tower would be lit. Two weeks after I took a few pictures of the Super Moon, I merged the two images to yield the one I show above.

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.