As it’s sometimes difficult to get your attention with just words, a photograph is included, one of St. Peter’s Church of Coupland, taken in February.

Growing up in the 50s and 60s, many of us lived by a mantra:  don’t discuss politics and religion.   In 2025, I continue to embrace that notion, even more so since the practice of journalism is still part of my nomenclature.

When logging into social media accounts now, there’s a mind-numbing barrage of posts from friends with wide-ranging view points, some from the left, some on the right.    Many of you post links with  your comments, hoping to reinforce your point of view.   Honestly, by doing so, you’re preaching to the converted, friends who already agree with you.   Others won’t bother to read those links anyway.   Mentioned before, but today’s social media was preceded by years with a feature in the Atlanta Journal & Constitution called “The Vent,” where folks would write or email their frustrations, many ending up in print.   It was very popular.    And well-edited by Joey Ledford.

Many journalist friends who’ve retired feel it’s time to let loose on social media.  Contrary to what you think, their views come from diverse sides of the political spectrum.    I parted ways with a colleague a few years ago when he continued to post misleading information on Facebook.   Yours truly  fact-checks things.

These are difficult times.   Some of us, while politically-engaged, keep our thoughts private.   Many of us embrace legacy media, not social media.  The internet is chock full of  unreliable sources.   Take what you find there with a grain of salt.    How many rely on a news source because they confirm everything you already believe? How many think the two major parties are going to solve your problems?  Lord help you if so.   This post isn’t meant to start an argument.  Take that elsewhere.

If you don’t want to read my occasional comments, just look at photographs.

Just some vintage tractor photographs tonight, friends.   A couple of these might still run.   One  nice gent who allowed me to photograph his tractor asked if I’d like to buy it!    He needs to keep that beautiful workhorse.

A leftover photograph, taken Sunday evening near the San Gabriel River.  A Waxing Crescent moon, barely a sliver, shines over a stand of trees.

033025 GEORGETOWN, TEXAS: A Waxing Crescent moon, at 4.1 % visibility, shines over trees in the Mankins Crossing area adjacent to the San Gabriel River on Sunday, March 30, 2025. Photo by Andy Sharp. 31

Yes, there’s another squirrel included with this post.   They’re fascinating and photogenic little critters.   Mostly, they skedaddle when confronted, but sometimes they seem to pose.   One of the nicest things about walk photos is not having to worry about getting mowed down when stopping for a photo, like in my car.   An earlier walk post said about 200 photos were taken per walk.  It’s actually almost double that.  12 offered tonight.  A lot of editing comes into play here.  

A few photographs from last night and this evening, signs of crop growth on the Blackland Prairie.   It’s been a tough few months.   Our land is parched.   A bit of rain arrived this week.   Every little bit helps.    I’m seeing wheat and corn crops now.   The opening photograph was taken east of Taylor tonight.   Others are from Friday evening, east of Granger.    Bring us more rain.

That little bird was determined to keep an eye on her surroundings as a Crested Caracara arrived on the scene last night.   The little, I’m pretty sure it’s a mockingbird, was likely defending a nearby nest.   No big old bird was going to invade the space.   The light level was low on this cloudy evening near Weir, Texas.   I was able to take a few photographs from a distance before big bird decided she’d had enough.   Photo quality isn’t the best, but the activity made it worth a post.   Note that I’m not a fan of using software sharpening tools that rely on Artificial Intelligence.   Many of you are using them.    My Adobe Creative Cloud subscription has AI tools available, but so far, I don’t go there.   Simple philosophy, friends:  if you miss, you miss.

Bluebonnets aren’t thriving in our area of Central Texas, but Our Lady of the Rosary Cemetery and Prayer Gardens had a few during a visit there on Wednesday.   After a detailed search, I finally turned the camera to the beautiful Iris adorning the site.  Growing near a gravesite were two delicate pink blooms.   If my search is correct, they are Madagascar Periwinkle.   Friends with a better botanical grasp, please jump in.   And the post concludes with cactus, joined by a fine-looking snail.   Just some tiny landscapes, friends.

Horses are wonderful subjects.   They get photographed often, but not always posted.   Let’s remedy that tonight with a few  equine portraits.

Most of these wanderings aren’t planned things, just going out the door and seeing what there is to see.   They don’t always come together.   Monday night, after aimless driving, I drove a few miles east to Thorndale, Texas, a Milam County community a few minutes east of Taylor.   I think the population is around 1300 now.   A venture there a couple of months ago wasn’t inspiring.  This time, however, I met an 88-year-old  resident out for his evening walk.   The first thing I noticed were his shoes.  Like mine, they were slip-ons, no need to fiddle with laces.   “I like your shoes!” I commented.   He smiled, continuing his walk.  After a few shutter clicks, we met again as he took a little rest stop on Main Street.   “Is it okay to take photos?” I asked.  He was fine with that.   Between occasional snaps, we chatted, probably for twenty minutes.   As night was nearing, we both decided to move on, he for his walk, me to get home to Taylor.     These photos were sent to him via email.     It was a good outing.

A friend’s question about purchasing a camera for her teenage grandson somehow brought back memories of one of my earliest cameras, a 1967 Nikon F.    Today it rests on a bookshelf in my office, looking very much like an old workhorse.    It was, and probably still is if one were to try it out again.  This camera had no motor drive, no light meter (we used hand-held meters then), no autofocus, no automatic exposure.  It traveled through University of Texas at Austin with me, where we found our way to Austin’s East 6th Street, before that street gentrified.    Motor drives were expensive accessories then.  For the first ten years, my cameras weren’t equipped with motor drives.   You learned how to get the moments at football games because you knew what to look for.   These photos taken this afternoon were made with a Nikon Z8 mirrorless camera, a wonderful piece of equipment I’m proud to have.   Would I return to film?  Probably not.   Today’s cameras are powerhouses.   It’s a buyers’ market.   Hopefully my friend’s grandson  will sail off to good memories with  his gift.   My old Nikon is now back on the shelf.   It will always be a camera, not a lantern, not a phone.