A little bit more seen on an entire week  adorned with fog, mist and rain.  We truly need the rain,  but foggy scenes are an added gift.   These four are from Taylor, Beyersville and Granger.

It’s a good thing I’m always keeping an eye on my surroundings!    You’d be amazed (or perhaps not) at the number of dogs running around on country roads.  Just south of Granger this week, a couple of energetic canines decided to chase my car.   I stopped, rolled down the window, suggesting they mosey on home.  This one fellow (girl?) chose to stand right by  the front bumper for about a minute, finally letting me pass, then once again giving chase.     Folks barrel down this road quite a lot.  Hopefully, they’re on the lookout.

This photograph has been resting on my computer’s desktop since November.   At times that workspace gets crowded.    This impeccable barn is in none of the counties I usually photograph, perhaps 90 minutes away from our Taylor home.    Mentioned before, but Texas may be the only state that adorns its structures like this.     Just clearing off the desktop, my friends.  

Fog is among the most elegant weather conditions on this planet, adding a touch of serenity to almost any scene.    We’ve had fog, mist and rain for three days in Central Texas.   We need every last drop of rain we can get.    Offered tonight are some recent examples from my wanderings on the Blackland Prairie.   A full moon is visible somewhere tonight, but not here.   And that’s quite alright.  

Of course the water isn’t precisely blue, but at certain times of the evening (or morning) bodies of water can impart that feeling.    I like small ponds a lot.  They’re often intimate spaces, tucked into fields and pastures.   Here in Texas, where many are used for livestock, they’re called tanks.    I do not.  The word seems to minimize their nature.  My grandfather, Carl Bradley, and his brother, my Great-Uncle Harry, were Texas farmers for much of the 20th Century, beginning in the early-1900s.    Uncle Harry called his a pond, a gentler word.  He taught me how to fish there.   Uncle Harry was a gentle soul.   But I digress.  These are photos taken last night and this evening, on the cusp of full twilight, retaining that sweet blue.   The Great Egret isn’t quite tack-sharp, but the photograph merits a look here.   Just blue stuff, friends.

Assuming you’ve kept up with things in Texas you’ll know how very much we need rain on the Blackland Prairie.   Thankfully, we got a very good dousing today.   When out for a drive this afternoon between Taylor and Hutto, a couple of rain-replenished fields merited some photos. Fog added to the scenes.   These are two fields presented in both color and black-and-white.   I think the black-and-whites get the nod here, but  always appreciate  your input.   Either way, the rain is a blessing.

It rained for most of my two-hour walk in Taylor this morning.  During that time I encountered only two other people, both walking their dogs.   It was probably better to stay inside, but there are things to see.

Crisp winter light recently  graced this quiet country road near sundown in Bell County, Texas.   There are a few roads I travel simply to embrace the feeling of serenity they provide.   This one’s particularly good at this time of year.   

You may recall a recent post highlighting Bartlett’s Pistons On the Bricks, a Texas Photography Festival (and Williamson Museum) pop up event  held today.   It was good event, with great presentations by the photographers on the program, plus an opportunity to see inside some of Bartlett’s historic structures.   The thing I was missing, however, was a photo that tied it all together.   With temperatures in the 20s and 30s, the car show entries were minimal.  One of my last stops before heading home this afternoon was a visit with the folks showing their cars.  As we spoke, along comes a tractor hauling a load of hay right through downtown.  As most know by now, I have an affection for the agrarian landscape on the prairie, much of it going away as development marches on.   That tractor’s presence was wonderful.   The photo presentation begins there.

I always hated getting photo assignments to photograph people outside during the winter months.    The light was harsh and very unflattering to humans.    For landscapes, however, the play of light and shadows can be a soothing balm.   These photos are from day’s end this evening  near the San Gabriel River as it winds its way through the countryside  just  north of Taylor.   There’s the river itself, but also quite a few old-growth trees surrounding the area.   A Waxing Gibbous moon hovered overhead.    It was cold, but also replenishing.