Last weekend, my cameras and I spent time at the annual church bazaar for Holy Trinity Catholic Church.   Since returning to Texas, in 2009, I’d ridden by this church on bike rides into the countryside.  The first sight of it, from a distance, is something special.  Like so many structures around here, you can see things from great distances.  Holy Trinity qualifies.   In North Williamson County, Texas, it’s above Walburg.   From there, you travel up F.M. 1105  for a few miles, quickly pass through Theon, and there it is, in New Corn Hill, Texas.  The post office lists this as being in Jarrell,  but it’s New Corn Hill, quite near what was once just “Corn Hill.”   But I ramble.   The bazaar itself was a splendid event, with whopping amounts of food served in the parish activity center.   Once the meals were done, the tables cleared,  followed by a live auction,  with a great auctioneer, Buddy Johnson, from Thorndale.   In an adjacent room, bingo was a hopping place to be.   Luckily, I decided to sit close to 6-year-old Mason Danek, with his grandmother, Barbara Danek.  Of all the many people playing, Mason actually won, right in front of my lens!   On the church grounds outside, polka music, performed by several gentlemen of Czech heritage,  was plentiful.  Among them were Edward Kopecky, leader of the Funtime Czech Band, who played the accordion, but often switched to his trombone, or a trumpet.   Also playing a mean accordion was  Willie Vrabel, who attends Holy Trinity and just enjoys performing and visiting with friends.  There  were games for kids, a raffle, too.  I couldn’t leave Holy Trinity without a visit into the sanctuary of the church, here since 1913.  Others had the same idea, including friends Nina Blevins and Olivia Anderson, and Andrew Palousek.  Now in his 60s, he enjoyed a visit to the area leading to the bell tower.  As a child, he attended Holy Trinity, doing duty as a choir boy.  He has fond memories of climbing the bell tower ladder for a good hiding place with fellow choir boys many years ago.   Outside the church, after way too much good food, Charlie Halm opted for a short nap on the grounds.  Recalling how the church appears late in the day, I went home, looked at a few images on the computer, then returned for the exterior photo posted here.   I’m glad I dd.   It was a good day, another opportunity to learn about the culture of my area.   These photos were taken for my friends at the Williamson County Sun.

Yesterday, at 3:21a.m. Central Daylight Time, the Autumnal Equinox quietly began its time.   For my area, it was cool: the day began with temperatures in the 60s.   Of course, it warmed to 95 by day’s end, but at least we can start to think about dropping temperatures.  I began this collection of photos, all in Georgetown, Texas.  before dawn, paying a quick visit to the town square, then on to Blue Hole Lagoon (the opening photo), where I noticed walkers out already.  And a Great Blue Heron some folks called Harry as he foraged for fish.  Moving on, I stopped by San Gabriel Park, where a pedestrian bridge out since the Memorial Day floods was once again intact.  Everyone I met was happy at that development!

After about 3 hours, I switched into my walking clothes and strolled a gentle six miles on the San Gabriel River Trails.  The hike took me past a really nice little area near Booty’s Road Park, the water flowing nicely around bits of lichen, the insects feasting on yellow flowers.  I ended my autumn experience by taking in the waxing gibbous moon at Georgetown’s First United Methodist Church.  These photos were for my friends at the Williamson County Sun.

Recently, I spent a little time with dove hunters in my area as they participated in dove hunting season, which runs from September 1 through October 25 in Central Texas.   The fields in the Taylor area are apparently a popular destination for hunters.   On the first day,  the land Wilbur Brinkmeyer shares with his son, Ted, was the place to be for hunters who drove from Louisiana and Alabama for the chance to try their skills on this slice of the  Blackland Prairie.   Daniel Campbell, from the Louisiana side of Toledo Bend, came with his daughter, 17-year-old Kaitlyn Campbell, shown in the opening photo.   On hand to help retrieve game was Reno, the Brinkmeyer family’s resident dog.    Hunting is an activity that’s never held my interest, but I support those who participate.   They, like my 84-year-old deer hunting father-in-law, who has hunted since he was a kid growing up in Arkansas,  seem to be doing it without any agenda.  As with my father-in-law, the hunters I spent time with for this series of photos  planned to put the game on their supper tables.     The hunters I’ve met through the years aren’t to be confused with some gun rights advocates who feel the need to parade around public places toting AR-15 assault rifles and the like.

The good hunters I’ve been around just want to do what others have done since the dawn of time.    That, as far as I’m concerned, is their right, if done responsibly.

Chicago may be the windy city, but I’m hear to tell you that Taylor, Texas, where we live, is the windy town.   When we moved back to Texas, in summer 2009, we settled in Taylor, a city of a little over 15,000 people on the Blackland Prairie.    After years of the clutter and traffic in Atlanta, Georgia, we wanted some wide-open spaces and low density.   I did find, however, that if I wanted to take a bicycle ride into the lovely countryside, that needed to be done very early in the day.   If you wait too late, most days the wind has picked up a lot, making pedaling a chore.   So it made perfect sense for the City of Taylor folks to start their own Kite Day last year.   This year’s second annual Kite Day, at Taylor Regional Park, was again well-attended, with many colorful kites and excellent breezes.  There were store-bought kites aplenty, but also some interesting homeade ones, like the “invisible kite” 72-year-old Willie Gore made using clear Saran Wrap and scotch tape as his primary materials.  The only way to spot it was to look for its colorful 16-foot length of tail.  Now fast-foward  7 hours after the event was over.  Passing through the park, I noticed a lone  kite gracefully floating above.  Closer inspection indicated no person attached to it.   Apparently, this one got away from its owner, but before sailing into oblivion, its strings caught the very top of a light post.  That’s it in the final shot.   It seemed an appropriate way to conclude the day in the windy town of Taylor.

Fourteen years have passed since that sad day, September 11, 2001.   It’s a date where the question “Where were you on 9/11?” has become commonplace.   I distinctly recall being in an elementary school classroom, in Cobb County, Georgia, on an assignment for my newspaper the Atlanta Journal & Constitution.   The specifics of why I was there aren’t clear, but I do recall an announcement over the school’s speakers that “something was happening in New York.”  Classes took a back seat to all of us, kids and adults alike, watching television screens at the school as the horror unfolded.   It brings to mind where I was on November 22, 1963, in Mrs. Henry’s 6th grade classroom at Grim Elementary School, in Texarkana, Texas, when classes stopped to hear of President Kennedy’s death 175 miles away, on a street in Dallas.    Fast-forward to last Friday, where members of the Georgetown fire and police departments once again returned to school district’s athletic complex, where they climbed the stairs to commemorate the 1900 steps of the World Trade Center.   For Central Texas, it was  a humid, sticky morning, but they were again up to the task.   Friday evening, at dusk, my town of Taylor, 30 minutes east, had their annual Patriot Day observance, something they’ve done each year following 9/11.   Even though Friday is high school football time around here, people showed up for this.  The last photo, a Taylor firefighter, an honor guard member, ringing the department’s bell, was resonant, and moving.    These are photos I took for the Williamson County Sun, the first eight from the climb, the final ones from Patriot Day.

This is a followup post to something I watched a while back, where horse trainers paired with wild mustang horses, only recently in the western wilds, got to know one another.  These spirited and beautiful horses, to put it mildly, were not too trusting of the touch of human beings.   Considering how us two-legged creatures have treated one another, I understand their reticence.   The Mustang Heritage Foundation, a Georgetown-area non-profit group, has for some time brought these horses  in touch with their human counterparts.  Last time I visited, when the horses were only weeks removed from remote areas, it amazed me to watch the gentleness the trainers exhibited.   After that event, the trainers were tasked with working with their new charges for a hundred days, to see if they might be “gentled.”   These photos were taken a few days ago, at the Williamson County Sheriff’s Posse Arena, in Georgetown.   The trainers, some dressed in costumes, demonstrated what they had been able to do.   This coming weekend, in Fort Worth, horses and humans will gather for the Extreme Mustang Makeover.  At the conclusion, those wishing to adopt one of the horses can do so at auction.   These photos, for the Williamson County Sun,

, are a testament to how these mustangs, while still full of spunk, were willing to allow the touch of a child’s hand.

On Saturday morning my wanderings, for the Austin American-Statesman,  took me west, to Bertram, Texas, to cover their annual Labor Day weekend event, their Oatmeal Festival parade.   Just a couple of miles from this Burnet County burg on the cusp of the Texas Hill Country, are what remains of an even tinier place, Oatmeal, Texas.   Oatmeal is mostly relegated to history these days, but it’s close enough for the folks in Bertram to have a festival in its honor.   And it was indeed well-attended.   The parade was delightful, with decorated bicycles, plenty of beauty queens, a high school marching band, the Plungettes, from Marble Falls, an actual dumpster attached to a car, and of course, Oatie, the festival mascot, there to greet visitors.  Like any parade, candy goodies were tossed to attendees.   8-year-old Timothy Edmundson was quick to grab a Tootsie Pop while the parade ambled past.   In Texas, a parade just wouldn’t be complete without horses.   There were big horses, but small ones, too, like the ones ridden by Arturo Mendez, and his little sister, Araceli.  Arturo was having a good time, but Araceli didn’t seem to be feeling the fun.   But new five-year-old friends, Macaila Lewis and Lyla Kramer, seen in the final photo in this post, were having a grand time!   I like the festival’s slogan:  The Most Oat-Rageous Festival in Texas.   The culture in my area never fails to inspire.

Photography can be many things.   It can be photojournalism, or, if you prefer, documentary in nature.  Maybe it’s portraiture, perhaps a vehicle  to sell something.   It’s my belief that the main function of this medium I cherish is simple communication, whatever form that make take.  With this post, what you see is the result of an afternoon spent reading a little, but then just observing.   On recent morning walks, my steps have been taking me past a little creek that courses through our Taylor city parks.   Adding to the pleasurable experience has been a Great Egret, gracefully standing in shallow water as I pass.   She doesn’t move much.   My guess is she’s nesting nearby, standing sentry over her family.  With that in mind, yesterday afternoon, fold-up chair, book, water and camera in tow, I sat down near that spot.   Alas, she wasn’t there.  Maybe hers is a morning ritual?  After a while, I decided she wouldn’t make an appearance.  Instead, what began to fascinate me were almost-transparent dragonflies, darting over the gently-flowing water.   Eventually, the pull of image-making dominated, the book set aside.  What I soon  determined was this:  auto-focus doesn’t fare so well with tiny, see-through creatures.  Manual focus was needed to make this work.  Thankfully, my 60-something year-old eyes managed to do okay with that, even with a 300mm lens.  Dragonflies, being what they are, however, didn’t make this easy.  More time passed.  Then I began to notice the flow of the water, the reflection of the blue Texas sky a sweet thing to see.   The first few photos focus (no pun intended) on a tiny winged world, but finish with water.   And a feather floating by.  I didn’t get my egret image this day, but that’s okay.  I communicated a little.

A good bit of Saturday afternoon and evening my work focused on the 4th Annual Sterling Gloves Boxing Tournament, held again this year at Georgetown High School.   The tournament was begun by longtime boxing trainer and coach Herb Fulton, who oversees Eight Count Boxing Club.  This year, the event had grown enough to continue bouts on Sunday.  The photos you see here were all taken on Saturday for my friends at the Williamson County Sun.  Boxing is not a sport where I’ve ever been a participant, and it may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I will say that those who train very hard at it are in better physical condition than the majority of our population.   They’re a determined lot.

After a year’s absence due to scheduling conflicts, Kidfish returned to Taylor’s Bull Branch Park on Saturday morning.   Just before the big event, the park’s lake was loaded up with 400 pounds of catfish.  A few of those were caught, but the kids were having a great time just snagging a little perch or two.   Children ages 16 and under participated filling the park with happy kids.   It was all for fun, a catch-and-release affair, but all the fish caught were measured to determine a winner.  While I was there, a young man caught a 23-inch long catfish, but the little lady in the opening photo almost beat that, with her 22.5 inch fish!     Read the link above about Kidfish for more information about this group who supports not just the fun of fishing, but environmental  responsibility and stewardship for what we have.