Just a little bit of the moon tonight, friends.   It’s a Waxing Crescent moon, 13.5 % visibility.   As seen near Christmas lights in downtown Taylor, Texas.

This continues my exploration of autumn scenes taken during recent daily walks in Taylor.  It’s a pretty nice season for us this year.   A reminder, I don’t spend copious amounts of time taking these snapshots.   The walking is my priority, but I’ve been known to slow down a bit more when spotting an agreeable heron.  All are made with my Olympus camera, an older OM-D E-M5.   It’s incredibly light.

This was a Lighting of the Square filled with rain in downtown Georgetown tonight, but wasn’t a deterrent for families craving the holiday spirit.  When it was all over, Main Street  was seemingly covered in gold.   By the time I finished my work, I was pretty soaked, but was enriched by tonight’s event.

I’m hoping to post some other autumn color photos from daily walks, but first offer this one from my Taylor neighborhood.   A friend has a wonderful tree, I think a Sweetgum,  that literally bursts with intensity most years.   I wanted to post it before cold and wind blew the leaves away.   It’s a calming presence. 

Actually, for a while today, it wasn’t just cloudy.   We had some pretty strong blasts of rain throughout the day and early evening.   When I looked out my window late this afternoon, it was raining a bunch, enough to merit a photo.    As is often the case, weather changes quickly here.  By the time I took this photo, the clouds were still there, but the heavy rain had slowed to a gentle mist.   I like the clouds.   If not for a hint of green grass, this could almost be a black-and-white image.

The Community Center at Georgetown’s San Gabriel Park was again the site for this year’s Community Thanksgiving, thanks to the work of Alycia Tandy and her impressive group of helpers.   Hot meals were offered at no charge to anyone who wanted one.   For shut-ins, volunteers scoured the area dropping off meals.   As usual, my photos only scratch the surface of this wonderful undertaking.   It’s truly a labor of love.  

Since it’s the evening before Thanksgiving, I thought it might be a good time to post a few photos taken tonight at New Sweden Evangelical Lutheran Church, a few miles north of Manor, Texas, a 20-minute drive from my Taylor home.   In summer 2009, just after moving here from almost three decades in metro-Atlanta, I was driving from Taylor to Austin via a farm-to-market road.   My eyes couldn’t ignore the huge steeple dominating the prairie sky on my left.   Later, I learned their copper spire is 104-feet tall.    The congregation formed in 1876, building their first sanctuary in 1879.   The current one pictured here celebrates 100 years in 2022.    The opening photo was actually the last one taken.  Even though the quality isn’t what I’d like it to be, that view gives some sense of what I first saw in 2009.    It wows me each time I see it.

A simple post tonight, friends.   Just some trees from recent ramblings.   The last few days and evenings have been either misty or rainy.   Perhaps some of that is noticed here.   The last photo is a beautiful oak tree in Bell County, not far from Bartlett.    If you’re driving east from Bartlett on F.M. 487 it’s easy to spot.    Windmills make it into many of these offerings.  

It’s been a while since I’ve posted something of Taylor’s St. James Episcopal Church.   These were taken this evening as I continue exploring night photography interpretations.   It’s a beautiful structure, built in 1893.   A church organ installed in 1914 is still in use.   In earlier posts, any overall photos are done from the side due to bothersome power lines marring the front facade.   If you know me, you’re well aware I do not remove power lines via Photoshop.    As part of the actual scene, they need to be present.   My preference, however, is to use an angle that minimizes the distraction.

From Sunday evening, a cool and rainy night along South Main Street in Thorndale, Texas.   The small Milam County community of about 1300 is beginning to add color for the holidays.    It’s a quiet photo, as it was meant to be.   Five decades ago, one of my mentors, a photojournalist I’ve always admired, offered his thoughts on photography.   “It’s okay for a photo to whisper,” he said.    Recently, a man I knew only by name before,  engaged me in conversation.   “I like your photos because they’re quiet,” he explained.    If we can use this medium to tone down the noise all around us these days, so be it.