So I’m standing next to my car at Taylor’s Murphy Park late Thursday afternoon when the clouds started looking really puffy, surrounded by a crisp blue sky.   My inclination was simply  to take a photo of that nice sky when a flock (herd)  of birds meandered along, northbound to who knows where.    They were quite focused on task,  with military precision.   And just the right thing to add to a nice Texas sky.

Wednesday night I attended the opening night of the Williamson County Fair & Rodeo being held at the Williamson County Expo Center in Taylor.  In addition to a cool midway, I had fun watching the fair’s inaugural stick horse competition.   That was a hoot!  Both kids and adults (yours truly included) enjoyed the petting zoo.  Sam, a 25-year-old tortoise, was noticeably shy when the petting zoo was filled with kids, but once things settled down, Sam took a slow stroll around the place.  The rodeo will be held Friday and Saturday night.   And there’s a lamb and goat show on Saturday morning.   I love county fairs.

Lilac Cemetery, in Milam County, a few miles from the San Gabriel community, has been on my mental radar since friend Deborah Hajda mentioned it a while back.   I’d seen a photo of the site, but a gate had me wondering if it  would be locked.   Once there,  all was good.  Rather than drive my car inside, I left it outside the gate.   This was a place to walk.   The surrounding countryside is idyllic.   The only activity I noticed for the hour I was there were a few cattle grazing nearby.   The land here was made available by the family of Dr. John Graves, the dentist and planter who settled Lilac in the late-1850s.   The earliest burial here was in 1870, but finding that gravesite proved elusive.   Veterans dating back to Civil War times are interred here. I was impressed to see an outhouse nestled near a fence line.    It looks well-used.   Growing up in the 50s and 60s, I recall my mother’s farm family using one.   They didn’t get indoor plumbing until the late-60s.   This is a beautiful place, one of the few reminders of what was at one time the community of Lilac.

Prairie grass, as seen this evening, marks what was once the Milam County community of Lilac, Texas.   A bit of history follows.   Dr. John Graves, a dentist and planter, brought his family here in 1858.  With the addition of a post office, it became Lilac in 1883.  The Graves family donated land for a school, Baptist church, Methodist encampment and a cemetery.  At one time, Lilac had two stores, a cotton gin and blacksmith shop.  After a devastating flood in 1921, the community declined.   1929 finished what the flood had begun.   I took this after spending time at Lilac Cemetery,  but that’s another story.  Prairie grass prevails.

Flowers aren’t something I know much about.   We see these lovely flowers start to come up every autumn after a bit of rain.   A Google search tonight seems to tell me they are Oxblood Schoolhouse Lilies, not wildflowers, but produced from bulbs.  I saw these in a vacant lot during a morning walk in Taylor.   Tonight I stopped by for a few photos.   If you care to call them something else, go for it.    As far as I’m concerned they’re just pretty.  That’s quite enough.

Carol Fox, a writer and rancher friend who lives in Circleville, recently invited me out to see Cutter, the most recent addition to her family of horses, which also includes Martini and Bennie.   Bennie’s the white one.   Carol’s ranch is already idyllic, but when you add three handsome horses, it’s magical.    The opening photo is Cutter.   I like this one because Carol warned me that Cutter is very shy around new people.   The way he hid behind a tree, then peered out was a sweet moment.   The second photo is Martini, then Bennie.   Others are this and that, including a photo of Cutter dashing across a field when Carol called them in.   While my knowledge of horses is limited, I do know they’re very intelligent beings.

While I’ll admit to seeing some impressive skies from friends around the world, the Blackland Prairie offered up some exceptional examples of the beauty we find where we live tonight.

There’s a sturdy little mesquite tree that always draws my attention when seeing it.   Since I’m not usually a fan of power lines marring a landscape, three versions of the tree are offered during a recent sunset.  The opening one is cropped tightly to minimize the annoying lines.  The second version includes the entire tree,  the lines pretty obvious.    In the last image the lines and power poles  are incorporated into  the scene.   When you can’t get rid of something that bothers you, why not embrace it?   For those new to my stuff, I don’t use Photoshop or any other similar application to remove an object.    It’s dishonest.

The first time I met Rosalio Rodriguez was over a decade ago,  as he and Charlie, his dog, were herding sheep along a barely-used county road south of Granger.   The two of them were sometimes running to keep up with the pack of about 60 head as they munched on grass along the roadside.   Then in his late-50s, this was a daily ritual, a task he enjoyed every day after working full-time at a printing company in Pflugerville.   

Recently, on one of those drives around East Williamson County, I was happy to see Rosalio, doing what he’s done for years along that same country road near his home.   This time, however, he had a new companion, Rambo, another large Great Pyrenees mix.  

Rambo, naturally protective, gave the photographer an initial frosty greeting, but once he got closer, all was well.

“Charlie died six months ago,” Rosalio told me.   Sighing, he mentioned Charlie lived 18 years.   A good long life. 

Rambo, only a year old, is stepping into big shoes, but doing well. 

Now 69, Rosalio is still working at the printing company, but just  three days a week.  He’s up and going on those days, making his way to work at 5a.m. in the Ford Ranger pickup he had when we met.   It’s got 300,000 miles on it, but like its owner, is still doing the work.    

The herd has thinned in recent years.   He’s currently overseeing about 45 head of sheep.   Recently, three lambs were born.   On this recent visit, one of the newborns, only 4 days old, joined the pack along the roadside, staying very close to its mama.   The other lambs, each just a day old, stayed nestled in the barn.

The years haven’t slowed him down.  I was impressed when Rosalio once again took off running to keep up with his sheep, Rambo matching every step.   

A cyclist appears in the distance on this still-quiet stretch of road.   Other than one pickup truck, it’s the only activity nearby for close to an hour.    Rambo watches as the cyclist passes, staying focused, but calm with his human nearby.  

Rosalio’s son Rosangel Rodriguez, joined by grandsons Rosangel, Jr., 8, and Royce, 10, join him for a few minutes.    The 8-year-old has the natural running gait of his grandpa.   Royce is close behind with dad.    They bring water for Rosalio, which he generously shares with a grateful Rambo.  

As the day’s light begins to fade, Rosalio and Rambo guide the herd back into their pasture.   I get a chance to see the newborn lambs in the barn.  

The next day is a work day, another early drive.   The sheep, and Rambo, will be ready for another outing  when he gets home. 

Continuity keeps us focused.   

The right light can take something mundane and transform it.   Hay bales, for instance.    What you see at mid-day isn’t what you see during the golden hour.  Especially on the Blackland Prairie.