These were made this week when a friend took me to an area way off the beaten path in the Wuthrich Hill area. While most of what I photograph can be seen from the road, these cannot. On the windmill photo, I included a black-and-white version, too. A slightly-different photo, but pretty close. I need to do more b/w. 
6-year-old Puddin’ is kind of shy, but I managed to grab a frame or two before he moseyed away from the camera. Puddin’s daddy is a farmer in East Williamson County. They’re currently finishing up 800 acres in the Wuthrich Hill area. Granted, I’ve done a corn harvest post before, but Puddin’ prompted another one. Note that in our area, the corn crop is used for livestock feed grain, but visually speaking, corn is corn. And we grow a lot of it on the Blackland Prairie. 
Granger is one of those little Texas towns I enjoy visiting, just ten miles north of our Taylor home. I think the population is somewhere around 1500, but maybe a few more. These are some recent photos taken during strolls along West Davilla Street, on the west side of the tracks. If you look closely at the first photo, that is indeed a Christmas tree shining behind the glass. Nothing wrong with that. 
A photo from Monday evening as I headed for home after wandering around Granger. Note the mileage on the odometer of my 2006 Honda Accord. I drive quite a lot while looking for photos. 
This stretch of road was one of the first sites that intrigued me while on a bike ride in 2009, the year we returned to Texas. After 29 years in Atlanta’s congestion, this was a breath of sweet air. I still love it in 2020. This photo was made last night as corn harvest continued in Wuthrich Hill. As more people move to our area from the city, I hope they are mindful of slow-moving farm equipment. They were here long before you arrived. Be nice. Be respectful. 
Just this one tonight, friends, a full moon over the cemetery at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, Wuthrich Hill, Texas. 
This pandemic has affected life throughout the world. Churches have had to close their doors. While some have returned to their sanctuaries, others are taking a more cautious approach. One of those is Bartlett’s First United Methodist Church. Bartlett is a small community in Central Texas with about 1700 people. A few weeks ago, Bartlett FUMC decided to move their Sunday morning services to their parking lot, with masks and plenty of social distancing, a preferred option to going online. Their pastor, Reverend Rich Cromwell, speaks from a trailer bed, cars gathered to listen in the lot. Some stay in their cars. Others bring folding chairs, sitting next to their vehicles. These services are held each Sunday at 8a.m. Members would be baking in the Texas summer heat if they held them any later. Finding a way in the midst of crisis. Just a bit of community journalism for your enlightenment, friends. 
The moon rises above the Roy and Lillie Cullen Building on the Southwestern University campus tonight. It’s a Waxing Gibbous moon, 97.6% visible this evening, very close to a full moon. Southwestern University, in Georgetown, Texas, was chartered in 1840. 
This scene along a country road outside Granger, Texas, was taken Friday evening, a while after rain moved through the area. It left behind some much-needed moisture, but may have played havoc with friends trying to finish their corn harvests. A farmer’s life can be stressful. 
Recently, friends in the middle of their corn harvest found another barn they thought I’d like. They were right. This one is a little east of Taylor. You can’t see it from the highway. You travel down a dusty trail to get there. As you might know, I like to visually explore some of my subject matter. Barns lend themselves to that. The farmhouse where my mother was raised in northeast Texas eventually became a barn. After the passing of my maternal grandparents in the early-1960s, my great-uncle Harry, also a farmer, took the old house apart board by board, putting it back together on his farm, but as a barn. I am enamored by barns. 
