This bridge in Round Rock was not my specific assignment Saturday evening, but the light gathered around (and above) its surfaces was too good to ignore.    Another post will follow soon, the main reason I was there.   For now, just the bridge.

It’s a photograph taken a few evenings ago in North Williamson County.   I’ve let it gather dust for a while, not sure if anyone would care to look at a “grab shot,” something I see and shoot with zero advance planning.    The harsh sunlight was blazing in the distance when this farmer heading home caught my eye.   I quickly grabbed a camera, hopped out of the car and made a few frames.  The farmer probably assumed the photographer was daft (he’d have been right!)  but thankfully there was nobody behind me on this quiet country road.   The light was problematic, but is reminiscent  of the Eastman Kodak snapshots my parents took with their little box cameras in the 50s.   If you’re looking for technical wizardry, look elsewhere this time.   I just like this one’s mood.

Getting up early isn’t difficult, but taking photos at the beginning of a day can be challenging.   This morning, however, I made myself get out the door about twenty minutes before sunrise, choosing to stay close to home.   The rookery at Taylor’s Murphy Park is usually a good option.   This collection of photos includes not just our seasonal visitors, egrets, but also ducks and geese, year-round residents.  The first three are before sunrise.  The power lines around the park make sunrises tricky, but I managed.    It’s good to be an early-bird sometimes.

It’s an area east of Granger I’ve  photographed quite a lot, but enjoyed the recent arrival of warm light near sunset.   The structure, if I’m correct, was at one time a picker’s shack,  made available for seasonal workers many years ago.   It fits well into this scene.

This continues a series of photographs documenting barns.   Pictured tonight is a barn I first photographed seven years ago.   Just up the road from us, I’d seen it for several years, but wouldn’t set foot on the property without an okay from the owner.   In 2017, however, I noticed a couple outside, tending a garden in their yard.   Pulling into the driveway, I asked if it was alright to take photos. “Sure, but watch out where you step,” pointing to a spot.  “I killed a rattlesnake right there,” he explained.    Since then this barn has been in front of my lenses a few times.   The road it’s on was closed down for almost a year for a widening project, but recently it re-opened.   These were taken last evening.   I’m glad to see the 1963 Chevrolet still there.    A few barns photographed no longer exist.   It’s important to document them now.

Finally, the sun began to go down last night.   It’s going to be a long hot summer.   Summer in Texas is not kind.

These photos were taken in mid-March, on a weekend we went hunting for wildflowers in Washington County, Texas.   After spending time in Brenham, we traveled 12 miles west, to the community of Burton, home to the Cotton Gin Museum.  Behind the museum is this wonderful cotton gin, which opened in 1913.  It’s still operational today, primarily during the museum’s Cotton Gin Festival, held each April.  It’s a really neat space.   I’ve added a photo of the site’s historical marker to give you a little more information.   As cotton season nears, this seemed like a good set of photographs to dust off and offer tonight.  I’m hopeful our farmers have a better harvest this year.   Drought and heat are treacherous. 

Once again, friends, another windmill, this one in Rice’s Crossing, Texas, not far from the new Samsung Semiconductor plant.

Granted, I probably post too many windmill photographs, but ones like this beauty near Walburg just inspire the heck out of me.   It’s a good bet you’ll see this one again.  

With Hurricane Beryl moving toward the Texas coast, we expected rain by Monday, but storms arrived this evening in East Williamson County, Texas.   Thankfully, our power stayed on.   After about an hour of wandering, it was nice to see the reflection on the pond at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church in Wuthrich Hill.   Our drought-plagued area does need the rain.