Although there seems to be less cotton growing in our area this season, I was fortunate to find a little while wandering this evening in the area near New Sweden Evangelical Lutheran Church, one of the prettiest areas in Travis County, Texas. 
Early Sunday morning, Star, our wonderful pooch, gave a gentle knock on our door, ready for breakfast. Star gets what she needs. I took advantage of Star’s wakeup call, heading out the door for some pre-dawn photos. Only a mile from home, I stopped at Taylor’s Murphy Park to watch the egrets. While I arrived before sunrise, the photos posted tonight are from just after sunrise. Just some egrets at the start of a Taylor, Texas morning.
While documenting other harvests here on the Blackland Prairie is nice, cotton is perhaps the most enriching. Once again this year, I returned to the Boehm family farm in Norman’s Crossing, Texas. Troy Boehm planted 750 acres of the billowy crop this season. Initially, they didn’t think it would fare well, but I would say it looks wonderful. The family, like others in the area, leave the actual cotton harvesting to a crew from the Panhandle, but the planting and care is all Boehm. Troy brings it to life. These photos were made over a two-night span. On Facebook, I’ve spoken quite a bit about today’s digital cameras. While mirrorless technology is taking hold, I change lenses quite a bit, often in dusty places like these beautiful fields. With my heavier DSLR cameras, the sensors are afforded more protection from the elements. I’m not so sure about mirrorless, where, when a lens is changed, sensors are staring me in the face. It makes me uncomfortable. Whether my thinking is right or wrong, I prefer to stay in my comfort zone, especially in these remarkable prairie fields. 
A while back, I was asked if the windmills I photograph are still in active use. I didn’t know then, nor do I now. But know this. They are elegant to me. My guess? They’re rural adornment these days. The one offered tonight, with its blades relegated to history, is officially retired. It’s still there, adding to the landscape of my Blackland Prairie in Texas. I hope it remains for a very long time. 
Late Wednesday afternoon, with temperatures in the low-100s, I stopped by Blue Hole Lagoon in Georgetown for a few photos. This was its first day open to the public after being closed for weeks because of the ongoing pandemic. Honestly, I expected the place to be wall-to-wall people, but was surprised to find no more than ten people there. Granted, it was a weekday, but well past working hours. The summer drought has also brought the water level down quite a lot. The few people on hand seemed to enjoy the cool water while having no trouble social distancing. With temperatures still high, I wonder if Blue Hole will be crowded. If so, I do hope visitors will be careful. Honestly, I was glad to find the small numbers present during my visit. 
These were taken along two county roads a little east of Granger on an evening filled with warm and inviting light. Just some recently-harvested fields, soaking up the last rays of sunshine on the Blackland Prairie. 
A few photos from an outing this week just south of Granger, another corn harvest in progress along a scenic county road. While the harvest photos are okay, my favorite images from this little session are of Mike, the gentleman driving large truckloads of harvested corn to a granary in Circleville. Mike is an essential part of making harvest times go well. I appreciate him letting me spend a few minutes chatting on a warm Central Texas night. 
These two photos have nothing in common, but I decided to post them together tonight anyway. The first image is the facade of a famous barbecue place in Taylor, seen on a recent night. I like the design, but not the dang trailer at right. No, I don’t Photoshop things like that out. The second photo is just a grazing scene outside Granger. Just this and that, friends.
Tonight’s offering begins in Noack, at Christ Lutheran Church, continuing at grain elevators just west of there. The third photo, a grain elevator tucked into the countryside, has a Taylor address. As does the last photo, a barn photographed this evening, just east of Taylor. I’ve taken photos of this barn several times, but didn’t like anything until tonight. One can afford to be selective where we live. 
Making photos at dawn is a much-beloved activity, but doing so conflicts with morning feeding time for our sweet and hungry dog, Star. Generally, she likes to wake up, stretch and knock on our bedroom door a little ahead of sunrise. Last night, I suggested she could knock a little earlier if she liked. Sure enough, at 6:10 this morning, there came the knock. She’s a big girl who makes her presence known. She gobbled up her kibble, then went in the backyard for potty time and a brief romp. By the time she was done, I still had 25 minutes before sunrise. So off I rambled. The photos are presented in the order taken, beginning with a subtle image of the San Gabriel River, about 15 minutes before sunrise. I like to present these things as time progressions. The photos (I think) explain themselves. The last one, taken about 20 minutes after sunrise, is a recently-harvested cornfield, once again allowing a view of the old hand shack that’s rested there for years. It’s covered with summer’s growth right. A hand shack, as I’ve been told by area farmers, was once used for day laborers who helped work harvests. This one is only shelter for rodents, bugs and snakes these days, but it’s there. 
