In December 1982, a group of children in Austell, Georgia “adopted” seniors at Austell Nursing Home. While some of the kids weren’t sure how to conduct themselves, this young lady had no trouble at all. It’s good to give back to one’s community.
There’s nothing special here this evening, just wandering around town, and up the road a bit. While I don’t miss much about the southeast United States, autumn color is one thing I love. In Texas, if I had the funds, I’d wander over to East Texas. Folks around these parts tell me that Los Maples State Park is nice, too. For now, I’ll settle for a somewhat bright yellow tree just up the street from my house. Also in Taylor, I noticed a couple stringing holiday lights on their 2nd Street business. It’s good they’re getting it done now because we have a strong cold front moving in by early-morning, bringing some anticipated strong wind. The other photo, a black and white, is a fallow field north of us, and a little south of Granger. A longtime photojournalist friend, Martin Waidelich, has moved from his home on the Washington (state) coast, across the mountains, to the Spokane area. He’d posted an image on Facebook that looked similar to our Blackland Prairie. Martin mentioned how he liked the curvature of the earth in his new area. When I saw this tonight, what he said makes sense!
It’s not always a given that I’ll find something to document when trolling around the Blackland Prairie. Tonight, in fact, was one where I thought to give it up, go home, eat, and read some more on my current book. Then, driving along one of our sweet country roads, I noticed an unusual light source in the distance. When I got closer, this Noel-adorned barn came into the view. A young man was driving out of the driveway. I asked if it was okay to stop and take a few photos. He was fine with that. This is one I consider a little early Christmas gift … to myself, and perhaps, to you. The faded red barn, which I actually shot a few minutes earlier than the Noel barn, was a quick grab shot. It was only when I started editing this evening, I noticed, at the lower right, what at first appeared to be a large white dog. When I zoomed in on the image, it appeared to be an alpaca staring out my way! This was another little gift as well. The last one? That’s a barn I’ve photographed a few times, one I call the Long Barn, for obvious reasons. ‘Tis the season, friends. 
The photos posted here were all taken this afternoon and evening, a rainy, misty, foggy Monday in Central Texas, with temperatures from the upper 40s to lower 50s. I like this kind of weather. Later in the week we’re expecting some much chillier stuff, dropping into the 20s. Now for South Central Texas, that’s cold. All images, of course, are from the Blackland Prairie area of East Williamson County. One is presented in both color and black and white. The post ends on one of my favorite unpaved roads.
It’s been a wet and cold weekend here in Central Texas. That didn’t stop organizers from holding the annual Christmas Stroll in downtown Georgetown Saturday. Things were scaled back a bit. The parade was cancelled, and Whoo Village, as well as Bethlehem Village, decided it wasn’t to be with all the wetness. Nonetheless, families showed up, vendors showed up, and most wonderfully, Santa did, too, making funny faces, even sitting with a Georgetown police officer. What a hoot! And let’s not forget a few princesses, in front of the Palace Theatre, from Princess & Co., an Austin-based troupe of (wait for it) princesses. Here’s a few photos from the wet, but fun day.
There is something special about subtle light. As you’re probably aware from previous posts, I cherish its purity. None was more pure than the light of candles filling the Lois Perkins Chapel at Southwestern University in Georgetown, Texas as I once again attended the school’s sweet gathering for the Season of Advent. Two services were held. Knowing it was a school night, I pointed my cameras at the first one, where I suspected more children would be present. Having covered this for a few years now for the Williamson County Sun, I know that my best place is in the balcony, where the light’s presence has the most impact. On a side note, the first time I attended the service, I got in a wee bit of hot water with a university vice-president for taking photos on the ground floor. These days, I stay up above the fray. It’s also where parents with small children like to go, probably due to little attention spans. Everyone was nice last night though. While this post focuses on the younger candle-holders, I like the gentleman pictured, too. When most everybody else had filed out of the chapel, he remained, holding his candle, singing “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” He was so intriguing, he’s included twice.
While visiting with a friend this week about churches I’ve photographed in Texas, she asked “Have you seen St. John, in the Richland Community?” Not only had I not photographed St. John, the Richland Community was also unknown. I came to understand that the “Richland Community” was more an area than a town on the outskirts of Pflugerville, in Travis County, Texas. “St. John” is St. John Evangelical Lutheran Church, a beautiful church on what I’d call a southern section of the Blackland Prairie. In the 1860s, German settlers in Central Texas came to Richland, but had no church meeting place. For a while, they held services in private homes. The congregation came to fruition in 1878. After two church buildings, the one you see in this post came along in 1925. Until the 1930s, services were conducted in the German language. Inside and out, the church is lovely. I met the pastor, Todd Peterson, who kindly allowed me to enter the sanctuary for a few images. The friend who told me about the church, herself a Lutheran, was impressed with the ornamental metal covering adorning the walls and ceilings of the sanctuary. Many of the photos you see show that. One of the last photos, taken outside, shows portions of the gate leading into the church cemetery. I’m glad to add this to my list of churches photographed in Texas. 
Because I’m working diligently on something else this evening, here’s one taken during an interlude earlier tonight, something simple, prairie grass flowing around a stock pond on a lower portion of the Blackland Prairie. Onward and upward, friends.
It was night just to clear my head. After dropping off a book at the Taylor Public Library, I wandered pretty close to home, along County Road 401, where you’ll find Immanuel Lutheran Church, the little church on the hill, and also County Road 404, which intersects with C.R. 401. There I found a nice old barn, a car cresting a hill toward home, and another sweet little stock pond, or tank if you prefer. That blazing sky was seen from the church parking lot at Immanuel. It was fine night.
A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of meeting, and photographing novelist/educator/rancher Carol Fox on her cattle ranch in Circleville, Texas. Carol’s novel, “Ask Me Nothing,” is available on Amazon. For our initial photo session, we took a few photos at the Circleville Store, then ambled up the road to her ranch for more images. Carol expertly navigated her truck through the rolling prairie land, her two dogs chasing not far behind. Carol spent her childhood on this land. Day or night, she knows every dip in the pasture. After a few photos, including some on the San Gabriel River, we made our way back. En route, Carol pointed out a Bur Oak tree that has been around, she thinks, for 100-150 years. I found it lovely, too, and said it would be a good subject for photos. Initially, I had spelled the tree’s first name with two r’s, but the Texas A&M Forest Service says it’s just one, as do other sites. 
Recently, when our schedules aligned, I met Carol at her ranch, hopped in the truck, and visited the tree. Bur oak trees aren’t abundantly-charged with color. In the Spring, the leaves are a vibrant green, which eventually fades to brown, but this old tree has presence. My photos began with a few hungry cows around. Carol got their attention with some fresh hay and the photo-taking commenced, well past sundown, the stars lighting the sky, and the trail of a passing aircraft, too. I hope Carol’s okay with it, but I’m putting a photo of her into the mix, too, at the San Gabriel, with Miles. The tree, with Carol’s blessing, of course, may become a little ongoing project.
