Not long after moving home almost ten years ago, I taking an evening drive through Norman’s Crossing when I saw kids in uniforms playing baseball under the lights. Behind them were fields ready for planting. And some beautiful grain elevators. It was an incredible sight, but I chose not to bother the players and coaches. Then, a couple of years ago, Dr. Dana Boehm became our family veterinarian. Her clinic is adjacent to the field. After a while, I decided to do a story on Dr. Dana’s brother, Troy, a longtime farmer here. Troy’s two sons, like their dad, were serious baseball players. The problem was there weren’t enough places to play. So in 2007 and 2009, Troy built this field, adding lights and all. Last night, as I wandered, the field’s lights in the far distance caught my eye. This time I stopped and made a few photos. The boys are in a 13-14 year-old league. This was a practice night. Baseball has always been a wonderful, truly American sport. As a kid growing up in Northeast Texas, I was always too small for football. Baseball, however, was welcoming. Physical limitations didn’t count. The field in this post speaks volumes about a wonderful pastime, made more wonderful played in a place like this. Troy built a field. And the players came.

This is one of those wandering posts where I just offer up some recent photos I sort of like. The opening photo was taken a few days ago in East Williamson County, as was the second image. The last photo was made tonight, as a Waxing Gibbous moon, almost full at 98% visibility, shined a little light on a sweet old barn in Travis County, Texas, a wee bit north of Manor. This and that, friends.

Georgetown’s Bark Park is just a wonderful place to spend some time with your favorite pooch. Each visit there I find folks who come all the way from Austin to enjoy its beauty. These photos were taken Saturday as a way to let area residents know the park will be closed February 18-22 while Georgetown Parks & Recreation take care of some needed renovations. One fellow who will miss going is a tree-climbing fellow called Stevie Ray Dog. That guy is amazing! Others included here are an English Bulldog, Stella, her little friend Chico, a 6-month-old French Bulldog, Dutchess, a beautiful Rottweiler and Gus, a Husky/Shepherd mix with some fantastic blue eyes. These were taken for my friends at the Williamson County Sun.

Not long after coming home to Texas in Summer 2009, I got to know the area around Taylor, taking both long drives and bicycle treks around East Williamson County. One afternoon that stays firmly encased in my memory is arriving in Coupland, a ten-minute drive from Taylor. Taking a left off Texas Highway 95, I crested a hill. On the right was something magnificent. I felt as if I’d arrived in the small-town Texas version of Stonehenge. There before my eyes were these massive granite creations, some combining metal, firmly rooted in the Blackland Prairie soil. I’d arrived at the Huntington Sculpture Garden, created by Coupland’s Jim Huntington. A couple of years later, I briefly met the artist, but didn’t spend much time photographing him. Since I like to catch the action as it happens, it became a waiting game to catch Mr. Huntington at work. That happened recently, resulting in these photos taken for the Williamson County Sun. Jim lives in a sturdy metal building onsite. Since the sculptures weigh anywhere from 5,000 to over 10,000 pounds, he doesn’t have to worry much about someone running off with one. When a piece is done, he has a forklift handy to get that job done. And a young assistant helper nearby. Born in Elkhart, Indiana, Huntington recently turned 78. He’s lived a few places along the way, including Los Angeles, Boston, New York and San Francisco. While living in New York in the early-90s, he considered relocating south. Austin was ruled out when, even in 1994, he found the cost of living there prohibitive. Then he found Coupland, where he’s been since then. A few years ago, the inevitable advance of maturity presented him with arthritis. He’s still working, but hopes to scale back after finishing work on another 88,000 pounds of granite. Then, he says, he will probably continue the smaller pieces, but also try sketching and painting again. That’s how he started so long ago. He’s got a good website, which can be seen here. Years ago, he added the Huntington Sculpture Foundation, a non-profit that will assure his work will continue to be appreciated well beyond his time on the planet. My photos don’t even come close to representing his talent. You have to see it up close. Coupland’s easy to find. And you don’t have to fight traffic.

At first, Thursday evening rambling didn’t provide any inspirations. Then, driving east of Granger, a tractor caught my eye, a farmer’s field being readied for Spring planting. The sun’s rays were still harsh, but what I saw through my viewfinder looked pretty good. Not long after I began to take photos, the tractor came to a stop. I stayed for a few minutes, then moseyed north in search of other things. That setting, however, stayed with me. Before darkness set in, I turned back, taking a few more photos there after sunset. Here’s the thing, folks. A person with a camera can be intimidating. Did he stop because of me? Who knows? If you’re local, and you see me out there, the intentions are good. I’m glad I returned for the second image.

As major league baseball gets ready to fire things up next week with the start of Spring Training, I recall photographing Little League baseball through the years. Always a small kid, I wasn’t a good fit for football, but baseball? Yeah, I could do that. These photos were taken in May and June 1975 in Shreveport, during my time at the Shreveport Journal, the best little newspaper on the planet at the time. The sports action photo of the little boy stretching to catch a fly is my favorite action shot of a very long time behind the lens. This post aligns with what I also place on Facebook for what you might call Throwback Thursday. It’s really just old stuff which happens to be posted on Thursday. Play ball.

Last July, our family veterinarian, Dr. Dana Boehm, mentioned a cemetery that might hold my interest. The Shiloh-McCutcheon Cemetery sits well out of the way of traffic, residing on a hill overlooking Blackland Prairie pastureland, not far from the banks of Brushy Creek. To get to it, you have to travel along a winding unpaved road before it ends at the burial site. Last weekend, on a cold and misty afternoon, I paid a second visit there. The photos included here are from that peaceful outing. A little history, perhaps? The Shiloh community formed in 1848, beginning with a couple of stores, soon adding a school, church and homes. Families back then naturally gravitated toward water sources. The first known burials at the cemetery were in 1853, well before it was officially a cemetery, in 1890. Among those buried here are veterans from the Texas Revolution, the Civil War and both World Wars. These days, only descendants can be interred here, as cremations. While I wandered through this quiet space, I noticed a car moving very quickly along the dirt road. If the driver was visiting a loved one, he/she was in a hurry! It turned out to be teens, looking for an out-of-the-way hideaway to smoke an illegal substance. I’m sure they saw the old dude wandering among the graves, but they paid me no mind. After a few minutes of fun, they tore right on out of there. Two grave stones near the end of this post caught my eye: infants born on the same month and day of my birth, also leaving the earth on the same day; and a grave where the date of death was listed as September 31st, a date that doesn’t exist.

I’m compelled to document the area where we live. It may mean nothing to anyone else, but it does to me. When possible, good aspects of our history needs to be preserved. Tonight, looking for another subject, I was driving through the North Williamson County community of Schwertner, Texas, a small place, less than 200. In January 2017, a drive took me through here, too. At that time, on Main Street, I discovered the two old buildings seen in this post. The Schwertner State Bank building was built in about 1910, Leatherman Drugs about then, too. Tonight, they were gone. I can’t tell you the reason, but it makes me sad. While we save bits of history with greater frequency, we also take it away. No other words this evening.