Taylor’s Murphy Park is a place I pass through on my daily walks.   While some posts focus on the park’s rookery, it’s a lovely park all year long.   Presented here are some photos made there Friday evening, staying close to home.   This week I purchased some new camera equipment.   This was a good place to use those toys.   The activity at the rookery is slowing down.  The new egrets are growing, moving on, but it’s still an active area.   On this outing I observed a Great Egret, a Great Blue Heron, and yes, a duck or two.   And humans.  A little guy on a fishing outing with dad, a mom enjoying one of the park’s newest benches.   Some of these are pictorial images, some are community journalism.   I live in a varied world of photography.  

Nothing but windmills tonight, friends.   When rambling across the Blackland Prairie, it’s a challenge to pass one without stopping to take a photo.   Some may tire of them, but I do not.   One of these five photos was at sunrise.  The others were taken as  the last light of day said goodbye.

 The first photo was taken last night at Taylor’s St. James Episcopal Church, here since 1893.   A Waxing Gibbous moon, just over 60% visible, was shining in the distance.   This was also an opportunity to try out a new camera (45 megapixels) and a new 50mm lens.   Fifty years ago, when I began this journey, a 50 was considered the normal lens for cameras.    For many years, this wasn’t a lens choice as most of us in photojournalism went with wide-angles and long telephotos.  Now in my late-60s, I’ve hankered to get back to basics.   At least sometimes.   The other photo was taken last evening in Rice’s Crossing, Texas.     I’ve got more windmill images to come, but just this one for now.

On the way back from an appointment in Austin late this afternoon, the clouds were putting on quite a show in the area north of Manor.   A detour was in order to record the umpteenth photo of New Sweden Evangelical Lutheran Church.   Continuing north toward home, the twin red barns, still in Travis County, prompted another stop.    A photo made of these barns a few years ago hangs on the wall in our living room.  While I try to hold off on repeating subject matter, sometimes it’s hard when the elements are just right.

Autumn began at 8:30a.m. Central Daylight Time in Central Texas.   We had rain and mist, plus cool weather throughout the day and into the evening, when these photos were made on the Blackand Prairie.

Tonight, hours before the start of Autumn (8:30am Central Daylight Time on Tuesday), I searched for an appropriate image or two, but it’s been gray, dreary and rainy throughout the day in Central Texas.  In the midst of all the gray, zinnias came into view just east of Taylor.  I knew the gentleman who plants these every year, a farmer profiled a few years ago.    Mr. Safarik, however, is much more.  He’s been a teacher and coach in the Taylor public school system for 54 years.  He still farms.    When I was working on that story,  he mentioned that I should take photos of his zinnias.   Tonight, I finally did.   This brings to mind my Great-Uncle  Harry, a northeast Texas farmer who, for all practical purposes, was my grandfather.   His brother, my grandfather, died before I knew him.  My father’s father died years before I was born.  Well into his 90s, Uncle Harry continued to grow things.  He grew flowers, too.  And a grape arbor.   Not to make wine.   Uncle Harry didn’t drink.   The grapes were his way of continuing to bring things to life on the land.   These zinnias remind me of that.  I miss Uncle Harry.

These two photos were taken last night in the Beyersville area.   I sense hazy skies in these images.  Could that be attributed to smoke from the fires on the west coast?    Maybe so, but this little slice of East Williamson County, Texas is nice, regardless of the cause.

I have an affection for dirt roads.   Sure, they’re rough and tumble.  If it rains, they get really messy.   But they have character.   When growing up in Texarkana in the 50s and 60s, we had them everywhere.    During my 29 years in Atlanta, Georgia, however, I watched as dirt roads faded, replaced by asphalt and concrete.  We have a few left in my part of Central Texas.   This post is one of those, nestled away in East Williamson County.   One of the reasons to drive this road is to see if an ancient farmhouse still stands.    Thankfully, it’s there.   Much has disappeared in our area since we came home in 2009.    Old homes and barns I used to see are just  gone.   This leaning farmhouse will probably leave us, too.  A road sign indicates the speed limit on this road is 40 mph.   There’s no way you want to go that fast.   And why would you want to?

A little scene tonight at Taylor’s Bull Branch Park, a Waxing Crescent moon, just 4.1% visibility, hovering overhead.   The wider photos were aided by a handy tripod.  Night moves. 

Two photos close to home tonight, a little east of town.  The opening shot is one of my favorite old farmhouses.  I never see any sign of activity there, but occasionally an  RV is parked nearby.   Thankfully, when a rainbow  briefly appeared, the RV was gone.   The other photo is from last night, a long barn that’s always intrigued me.  Like that house, I never see activity here, but no matter.  It’s eye-catching.   Both the house and barn are visible now since the fields in front of them have been harvested.