Last night’s hazy Saharan dust sunset appeared above the mass of construction cranes over the Samsung Semiconductor plant being built in Taylor.  For years I’d drive by that spot, photographing a beautiful old barn, an impressive tree and lots of open land, replaced by a six million square-foot chip-making plant expected to open next year.  Three decades in metro-Atlanta gave us our fill of unchecked development.   It seems to have found us here.   While things have been disappearing on the Blackland Prairie for years, projects like this will hasten its departure.   Subjects to document are fading.

Photos taken during that long road trip.    Atlanta, Texas, 25 miles south of Texarkana, was the only Atlanta I thought of when growing up in the 50s and 60s.   My father was raised there.   Family members are buried in Atlanta’s Pinecrest Cemetery, where daddy taught me to drive when I was 12-years-old.  The car was a stick shift, a 1952 Chevy with three on the column.   But the photos offered here focus on downtown Atlanta.  Depending on your source, the community was formed in either 1871 or 1872.  When daddy was growing up there, the population was a little over 5,000.  The number of residents is much the same today.  In the mid-late 1800s, farm families moved west from Georgia, Alabama and the Carolinas, settling in Northeast Texas.  Atlanta, Texas was likely named after the big one in Georgia.  Also in area: Dekalb, Texas, Douglassville, Texas (different spelling), Marietta, Texas.   I guess these were nods to their earlier homes.   Every time I pass through, American flags are flying all over downtown.  They were this trip, too. The State Theatre,  opened in 1941, has been closed since the 1990s.  The theater seated over 700 people.   As unchecked growth continues near Taylor, places like this are becoming increasingly attractive.  

They say  Saharan dust is moving through our area again.  I can’t say if it affects air quality, but it does add an interesting element to our late-day skies on the Blackland Prairie.  This is at the Walburg area farm of a good friend who gave his blessing  in  allowing a camera’s presence anytime a little inspiration is needed.  Last night was one of those.   The windmill, as mentioned in previous posts, is new, adding elegance to an already beautiful site.  My friend enjoys taking an occasional swim into that pond.  The water is very clear.   Many refer to the water as a tank, but calling it a pond seems more fitting.  It’s a gentle place.

Atlanta State Park (the Atlanta in Texas) was one of my stops this week while making my way back home.   Nestled in the Northeast Texas Piney Woods, it’s an atmospheric destination in Cass County.  When growing up in nearby Texarkana, I spent a good bit of time at Lake Texarkana, renamed Lake Wright Patman in the 1970s to honor a longtime member of Congress from our area.  A portion of the lake courses through the park.  Since I needed to make the drive back to Taylor on this day, my time there was limited, but it was serene.   As a kid, I spent a lot of time on the Cass County farm of my Great-Uncle Harry, who taught me how to fish in the stock pond when I was about 6 or 7.   One morning, Uncle Harry suggested we stroll behind the pond, where an expansive grove of tall pines filled the sky, soft pine needles underfoot.   “This is my church,”  my mostly quiet  uncle told me.   I completely understand that.

Another photograph from that recent long road trip, a horse basking in late-afternoon light, not far from the only Atlanta I knew growing up.  As one of my great college professors mentioned, you can’t take many photos from 35,000 feet up.   While some find long drives tedious, many photographers like to slow down and see a little more.    Air travel gets you there sooner, but you pay for that.  

Texas and the Southwest make the news almost every day in recent weeks due to our string of 100-plus days.   It could be worse.  We could be in Phoenix.   Wednesday afternoon folks were finding relief from the intense heat at Georgetown’s Blue Hole Park, just north of the town square.   I’m actually surprised it wasn’t more crowded.

On the last stretch of my drive  from Georgia Tuesday evening I stopped briefly to take in this wonderful prairie scene about an hour from home.   It’s in the far eastern portion of Milam County, Texas.  This is an early-evening photo.    Last year I photographed it in morning light.  It looks fine either way.  Future unchecked development (hopefully) make take a while to sink its tentacles into the elegance of this site.

Another offering from my excursion to Georgia, this one at Anna Ruby Falls, a little northeast of Helen, Georgia.   When we arrived it was already early-afternoon.    The light wasn’t to my liking, but I made the best of it.   The falls are much prettier when viewed in the right light.   The other photos were taken along the steep trail leading up to the falls.  It’s quite a nice place.  Just watching light, friends. 

A Sunday afternoon scene at at Georgia’s Lake Lanier, something from my cross country wandering this past few days.   I’m throughly on the road, keeping it simple.

During the almost three decades we lived in metro-Atlanta I ran at least 30,000 miles on the 18-mile network of unpaved trails at Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park.   In those days I was a fairly serious runner.   My running group spent countless hours on the trails, but because running was part of my nomenclature,  noticing the natural beauty around me took a backseat.   This week, returning to Georgia to visit family, I stopped by the park for about an hour.   These days I’m a walker.   I take time to see what’s around me.  Pine trees and pine cones.    This park, close to stressful havoc,  is worth seeing.    These are from a slow walk around the park.   Slow down, friends.   Feel the quiet intensity.