There are things I’ve photographed that have been sitting on my computer’s desktop for months.   One of those is Blue Hole Lagoon, in Georgetown, Texas.  Blue Hole is part of the San Gabriel River.  The granite outcroppings here are magical.  The “blue” seems to come after the sun goes down.    These were taken in late-2019.  I wasn’t sure anyone would be interested.  So I let them sit there.  Recently, the city of Georgetown, in response to COVID-19, closed Blue Hole.   I get that.  The area becomes extremely-crowded as temperatures rise.  On the evening these photos were made, however, things were quiet.   No crowds.  Social distancing wasn’t needed. Nobody was there, anyway.  Except a wandering photographer.

After running an errand this morning,  I was compelled to take in the fog enveloping the rookery at Murphy Park.   It was a short, but pleasant interlude to an otherwise stressful week.

This morning I started the day with some photos close to home, at Shepherd’s Heart Food Pantry and Community Ministries.   For many years, the pantry has provided food to those in need, not just in Taylor.   They partner with the Taylor Ministerial Alliance and Central Texas Food Bank.   I was happy to see that the current pandemic hasn’t put  a stop to their assistance.   Volunteers come ready to work, all wearing face masks and protective gloves.   The group distributes food to individuals and families three days a week.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays, it’s from 1-3p.m.  On Saturdays, it goes from 9-10:30am.  Nobody is turned away.  In fact, after their time had expired this morning, a lady (in the last photo)  stopped by, asking if she could still receive help, only just discharged from a hospital stay.   Shepherd’s Heart saw to her needs.   That is compassion, friends. 

While there’s no way to know, I’d swear this Great Blue Heron is the same one I’ve seen for a few years at Georgetown’s Berry Springs  Park & Preserve.  Most of the time, when she spots my camera, she hightails it for other venues.   This week, however, she was intent on locating a fish, seemingly ignoring my presence, hunkering down to the task at hand.   She finally gave up, turned my way and gave me a few seconds of stink eye before once again taking her leave.    She’s a pretty lady.  At least I think she’s a girl!

Recent stories have focused on the impact of the coronavirus on remote areas where water is a precious resource, specifically Native American lands.   It made me think back to these photos from 1986, when Atlanta Journal & Constitution writer Ron Martz and I traveled to the Navajo and Hopi  reservations in Northern Arizona.  Although the story focused on the ongoing Navajo-Hopi land dispute, one couldn’t help but notice the remoteness of this vast area.   Most families were without running water, toting it in via 55-gallon drums.   The Navajo man in the opening photo was comfortable in his traditional hogan dwelling, but getting water there was a trial.   The same was true for other families shown here.  Today’s stories tell us water continues to be a vital issue here. With the increasing need for hand-washing and  other hygiene, I hope indigenous people aren’t swept out of sight again.    1986, when Atlanta Journal & Constitution  writer Ron Martz and I traveled to the Navajo reservation in Northern Arizona.   That story dealt with the ongoing Hopi/Navajo land dispute which had been going on for many decades.   What I noticed, however, was just how remote this area was.    Navajos were living in places where water had to be brought in via truck in 55-gallon barrels.   Some, like the man in the opening photo, lived far from anything, mostly comfortable in a traditional hogan, a structure made of wood and soil.   Current stories tell us water is still hard to come by when we’re in a time when  hand-washing is even more important.   I sincerely hope America’s indigenous population isn’t forgotten as we face the current pandemic.

Just a simple scene from the far reaches of East Williamson County, Texas tonight, friends.  I’ve passed this pond quite a few times over the years, but this time  it was worth a second look.    If you’re looking at this on a larger screen, you may notice the church in the far distance at upper left, Zion Lutheran Church, in the Sandoval community, very close to the Milam County line.

The wandering this evening wasn’t working out so well, but as I got ready to head on home to Taylor, I saw this peaceful scene, a rider and his horse called La Mora, riding into the sunset on a cool Georgetown, Texas night.

Each year that passes, I wait for the return of the egrets at the rookery in Taylor’s Murphy Park.   At times, the fear is they won’t come back.   And then they do.   A pandemic won’t impede the nesting cycle of these graceful birds.   They find a welcoming home here.   Among the egrets:  Great Egrets, Snowy Egrets and the smaller cattle egrets.   I’m glad to see them all.   These photos were taken over a two-night period this past weekend.   Due to coronavirus concerns, city parks were closed, but I managed to find a nice sidewalk, not on park land, to observe their antics.  I hope to return a few more times this year. 

These three photos were on a recent evening after some pretty severe storms moved on through Central Texas.   They don’t need much explanation.   At least I hope not.   Just after the weather settled, I happened on a group of longhorns, huddled together near their fence line.   They remained like that for quite a while.  Do cows feel angst?   These did.   The other two photos are a nod to good light after the storms had passed.

This is just something I saw while running a quick errand this morning.   The scene is at Taylors First United Methodist Church.   Although we’ve not met, I believe this is their pastor,  taken a few minutes before an online Easter  sermon.   I thought it worth sharing.