On the way to an errand this morning about 7:30, I saw a man, loaded with a backpack and Desert Storm flag as he walked at a brisk pace through Taylor.   This is Gulf War veteran John Mumby, 50,  who served  in the U.S. Army Infantry during Desert Shield and Desert Storm.   Three weeks ago, he began walking from Winnsboro with Austin as his goal, a 300-mile trek.  He’s been steady, averaging 15-20 miles a day.  His walk has purpose, calling attention to the mental and physical effects of Gulf War Syndrome, something that’s impacted his own life.   After taking a few photos, I wished him well.   He doesn’t have far to go.  

I had a doctor’s appointment a few minutes past dawn this week in Georgetown.   It was a cloudy morning as I took a few photos around the town square at what would’ve been sunrise if one was apparent.  It was not.   Included: a tree I like, plus two versions of the Williamson County Courthouse, here since 1911.   Some folks are at work pretty early.  The lights on the buildings around the square are here throughout the year. 

All that remains of Taylor’s Murphy Street Christian Church rests on a secluded hill at  5th and Murphy Streets.   I have no idea how long it’s been like this.  I discovered it while on a bike ride, probably in 2010.  This evening I stopped for a closer look.  The cornerstone attached tells us the church was built in 1901.   Internet searches don’t tell much about when the rest of the church was taken down.  You won’t see this unless seeking it out.   It’s a fascinating little bit of Taylor’s past.  I’d love to see an old photo showing the church in its heyday.  Tonight’s Waxing Gibbous moon was nice to see, too. 

Last year, because of pandemic concerns, there wasn’t a pumpkin patch at Georgetown’s First United Methodist Church, but there is this year.  This afternoon and evening I watched as volunteers unloaded 2,478 pumpkins.   The sale begins Thursday, continuing through October 30th.   The pumpkin patch is a fundraiser for children and student ministries, plus church missions.  As always, my focus is on the kids, who have much more fun. 

This is one of those times where I need to send some files to the archives so offer some recent images which have been sitting  on my desktop too long.    Plus I like the colors.   It’s been a gray day here.  I love cloudy days, but this one was dull.

As cotton harvest continues, fields around the Blackland Prairie are returning to their original state, just dirt.   I’ve taken a similar photo of the opening image before, but it fits this post nicely, land cleared on either side of a county road east of Granger.   The second photo, west of Granger, are harvested modules of cotton awaiting the ginning process.  Both photos were taken tonight. 

While we don’t have the vibrant fall colors seen in other areas, we do okay here, particularly at Georgetown’s Berry Springs Park & Preserve, where these photos were made late Saturday afternoon.   There’s a certain crispness to the light at this time of the year, apparent when looking at a Waxing Crescent moon shining above the park’s trees.  The couple in the opening photo certainly enjoyed the view.    As did I.

There’s not much to say about these photos taken Friday evening as I watched light evolve over the San Gabriel River in Georgetown.  Cloud reflections in the water are pleasing to my eye.   If you look closely at the last image, you’ll see a Waxing Crescent moon, 9.5% visibility.   And the little dot at upper left is Venus.  

Most seasons, after documenting a cotton harvest, I follow up with a visit to a gin, where cotton goes when it leaves the field.   Once again, I prevailed on the kind and welcoming co-owners of Waterloo Gin, just east of Taylor.   Clement and David couldn’t be more helpful.   And I enjoy seeing Red, the resident dog.  This set of photos includes three outings.   The first one was on a very stormy night, creating some super duper skies above those huge modules of cotton.  I didn’t do much that night.   The other images came later.  By nature, gins are very dusty places.   Long before the pandemic took hold, staff working inside the gin wore face coverings.   it’s pretty much a necessity.  The final photo in this post is a portrait of Pete, 89 when I took this photo last year.   Pete had been here for decades.   When I first got there this year, I asked about him.   “Pete died,” exclaimed Clement, his head lowered.   The February storms took him away from us.   Rest in peace, Pete.   I’ll miss seeing you.

Tonight’s moon on the Blackland Prairie.  In its Waxing Crescent phase, it’s just 3.8%  visible, but that  tiny brightness caught my eye for a while.