Saturday morning I had to make myself get moving.   Lifelong allergy issues had attacked with a vengeance since Thursday, but it’s always best when I stay focused on task.   Driving through Georgetown’s San Gabriel Park, I spotted a gentleman strolling toward the community center, dressed in attire straight out of the Middle Ages.   A sign that just said “SCA” was nearby.   “What’s that?” I asked.   “That’s The Society for Creative Anachronism!” he explained with a smile.    This was the annual gathering of a regional branch of SCA, The Stellar Kingdom of Ansteorra.    The Society for Creative Anachronism, founded in 1966, is an international group dedicated to researching and re-creating the arts and skills  of pre-17th Century Europe.  Members, dressed in clothing of the Middle Ages and Renaissance, attend events which feature tournaments, royal courts, feasts, dancing, classes, workshops and more.  This group elevates role-playing to a higher form of art.  In the last photo the lady is playing a Viola de Gamba, an instrument invented in the 16th Century, predating the cello by a century.    After a few hours with these folks, my allergies were still pounding, but it turned out to be  a good day.

Weather conditions often  come and go quickly around here.   The weather forecast I read a little after 7a.m. today indicated we were in a clearing phase, but as I headed east from Georgetown this afternoon I was followed by a line of persistent rain clouds, which soon turned into a five-minute shower.    It came and went in the blink of an eye.  That old fence post is an enduring presence.     About twenty minutes before sunset tonight,  golden light fell on a tree near our home in Taylor.  Thirty seconds after I made the photo that light had moved on.  Also included here are two photos taken west of Taylor just after sunset.   I often include trees in photos.  And ponds.

This photo was taken a few weeks ago.   It’s a tree photographed a few times over the years.  This evening, when driving by there, it looked like some sort of construction was happening in that field.   I’ll swing by there again in full daylight to confirm, but hope this tree isn’t about to disappear.  So many things I’ve photographed the past dozen years are gone.  

“She Loves Me” opens tonight at the historic Georgetown Palace.   Just one photo here to acknowledge the play, but most photos are on Facebook and Instagram (@andybobsharp).  

Just three photographs taken the past few evenings while navigating around our (so far) country  roads.   They’re all somewhere outside Granger.  The area is impeccable.   Here’s hoping it retains its agrarian character.  Growth is inevitable.  

On the way home after a bit of wandering this evening, I noticed some wonderful light gracing freight train cars between Taylor and Hutto.   The drive home was delayed a few minutes while I found a safe place to take a few photos.   These tracks run parallel to United States Highway 79, a very busy place!    Thankfully, there was a nice shoulder  to make it a little safer.   Golden light during those  golden few minutes.

It was another one of those times when I had no idea if I’d find anything worthy of a photograph, but then a beautiful tree on a hill east of Granger came into view as sunset approached.   The tree photo is followed by two more photos while the sun completed its nightly mission.    But that tree resonates with me.    Returning home tonight,  a friend on Facebook posted about the loss  an 80-100 year-old tree to make way for a Texas Department of Transportation  road-widening project.   That tree, nature’s gift, is gone.   It brings to mind a pecan tree in our front yard when growing up in 1950s-60s Texarkana.   One of three old-growth trees, it had developed a possibly-fatal affliction.  Daddy hired a tree doctor, who came to our home and brought that tree back to life.   Years later, after I graduated from college, I returned to find all three pecan trees  destroyed to widen the road in front of my childhood home.  Trees matter more than roads. 

Perhaps it’s a simplistic thing to say, but I’m often just mentally absorbing the light when the camera’s shutter clicks.  At this time of year we’re blessed with nature’s elegance.   Often mentioned, but I can’t paint, draw or sculpt a doggone thing, but maybe I have a good sense of  what works in a scene.     The horse and pond are from this evening, the lone cow from  a recent cool blue night.   The horse and pond are in Northeast Travis County, the cow lives near Taylor.   It’s a goal to document the prairie before progress beats it into submission.

As if you need a reminder, I love windmills.   Almost everyone you see is no longer used for its intended purpose, but their presence remains.    That matters to me.   These were taken in the past  few days.   The one that includes two windmills was on a misty evening.   The other two include snippets of sunlight.    I’ll continue doing this for as long as they’re around.

This is a hand shack I’ve photographed numerous times through the years.  The one you see here  is from this morning, when clouds still hovered overhead.   This structure has also  been called a “pickers shack,” a place for seasonal farm workers to stay during their time here.   Few of these remain,  but this one in Taylor is still with us.   During the warmer months the shack is covered in brush and vines, not visible at all.   Winter gives us a peek of what was.   It’s along a county road that was closed to traffic in 2023 for a road-widening project.   It’s still closed, but early Saturday morning no road crews were at work.   This is a photograph that reads well in black-and-white.    Color is good, but sometimes monotone says more.