The six photos included here were taken Saturday evening after sunset (the first two) and ahead of dawn this morning at Taylor’s rookery, in Murphy Park.  Ten minutes after sunrise, I was gone.    A gift certificate made it possible for a new tripod, a much-needed thing.   These photos were a good opportunity to try it out.   I’m happy to say it is wonderful.   Although the rookery is here all year long, the nesting egrets that arrived last Spring will soon move on.  I am compelled to document it while I can.   It’s a restful place.

Just a few photos taken in the past couple of days in the area known as Wuthrich Hill.   The church, often photographed, is Prince of Peace Lutheran Church.

The birds posted tonight are not from Taylor’s rookery.   These are country birds, out there foraging for food on the Blackland Prairie near Granger, Texas.   There’s the mass of avian activity spending their time on recently-harvested fields east of town.  It’s fascinating how they don’t slam into each other while flying.   The third lone bird is a turkey vulture, on the hunt west of Granger.  A solitary being.   I don’t know the name of the large mass of avian life, but do find them interesting.  And quite determined. 

These two photos were made a few nights ago along the San Gabriel River.   I thought of them tonight while driving around, listening to James Taylor sing “Moon River” and “Old Man River” from his album of standards.   I listened to Mr. Taylor as a college freshman in 1970.   In 2020, I still get lost in his work.   And I get lost in documenting the San Gabriel, an ethereal presence.   The views were taken minutes apart, the first image looking east.   Back in the car, the river comes into view again, this time looking west, moments after sunset.  The San Gabriel begins its journey northwest of Georgetown, meandering east until finally merging with the Brazos River.  The combined waters complete their journey at the Gulf of Mexico.

The forecast for this afternoon and evening was for more stormy weather.    We did get a good dousing this morning, thankfully ushering in cooler temperatures. The evening storm didn’t materialize, but a nice sunset north of Granger made up for it.

While en route to an important errand this morning, I was compelled to pull over for a couple minutes to snap this photo in Norman’s Crossing.  The quality of light after a storm leaves an impression, not only in the sky, but on the land below.

The moon,  a Corn Moon,  is officially full at 12:22a.m. Wednesday morning.  It also looked good a little before 8:30 tonight, too.   Enough said.

Some photos tonight from Coupland, Texas, the focus on St. Peter’s Church of Coupland.   From near sunset to moonrise, a Waxing Gibbous moon, 98.8% visibility, shines above this southeastern Williamson County community.   From orange daylight to blue nightlight. 

The opening photo was taken Saturday evening in Georgetown, a Waxing Gibbous moon above Georgetown’s First United Methodist Church, 90.7% visibility.   The others are from tonight, all east of Granger, Texas, the moon almost 96% visible.   Chasing the moon is a visual delight.

Last night, I posted some generic scenes from Waterloo Gin, a longtime fixture on the Blackland Prairie in Texas.   Tonight, we visit Waterloo again to spend time with Pedro, known around the gin as Pete to almost everyone.    Pete is one of the reasons I return here each cotton-harvest season.  When his next birthday comes around, he’ll be 90-years-old.  Each year, when I stop by, the first question I pose to the owners is straightforward.   “Is Pedro still here?”   David, one of the owners, smiles this time  as he gives an affirmative nod.    Nobody asks him to return each year.  He just does.  Sometimes he takes a few seconds to blow off the cotton dust particles before returning to task.   We  all need a purpose.    Though he moves slower each year I see him, Pedro (Pete) still makes an impact.   Last year, I made a print for him.   I hope he liked it.   Work equals purpose.