The opening photo was taken Saturday evening in Georgetown, a Waxing Gibbous moon above Georgetown’s First United Methodist Church, 90.7% visibility. The others are from tonight, all east of Granger, Texas, the moon almost 96% visible. Chasing the moon is a visual delight. 
Last night, I posted some generic scenes from Waterloo Gin, a longtime fixture on the Blackland Prairie in Texas. Tonight, we visit Waterloo again to spend time with Pedro, known around the gin as Pete to almost everyone. Pete is one of the reasons I return here each cotton-harvest season. When his next birthday comes around, he’ll be 90-years-old. Each year, when I stop by, the first question I pose to the owners is straightforward. “Is Pedro still here?” David, one of the owners, smiles this time as he gives an affirmative nod. Nobody asks him to return each year. He just does. Sometimes he takes a few seconds to blow off the cotton dust particles before returning to task. We all need a purpose. Though he moves slower each year I see him, Pedro (Pete) still makes an impact. Last year, I made a print for him. I hope he liked it. Work equals purpose. 
As cotton harvest is done, the fruits of a farmer’s labor concludes at cotton gins. For the past few years, I’ve visited Waterloo Gin, east of Taylor, Texas, where I observe the process firsthand. In 2020, COVID-19 has prompted the use of face masks. This is nothing new to workers at gins. The dust prevails, as do masks. Cotton harvest is progressing. Gins are there to bring the work to market. If all goes well, I’ll post something else from this Blackland Prairie site on Saturday. 
Sometimes I let files pile up on my desktop. When that happens, they either get sent to an external drive, or they get deleted altogether. Here are a few from the past few weeks around the prairie, including cattle grazing near Thrall, a sunset in Wuthrich Hill, and a sesame field east of Taylor. I had no idea farmers grew sesame seeds here. A closeup of a bloom is included for reference. 
Thankfully, we still have some open spaces around the Blackland Prairie, country roads rolling into infinity, surrounded by recently-harvested fields, now empty. This simple scene is a county road a little south of Bartlett, Texas. I don’t get tired of seeing this. 
The crops that grow on the Blackland Prairie are all beautiful. Cotton might be my favorite to document. I’m told this isn’t a good year for cotton, but this field near Thrall, Texas looks okay to me. 
This barn, not far from our home in Taylor, was on my visual radar for the first few years we were back in Texas. A few years ago, I finally spotted a couple out front, tending a garden. I pulled into their driveway and asked if it was alright to take occasional photos of their beautiful old structure. They agreed, but advised that I watch out for rattlesnakes. Good advice! It’s been a while since paying a visit there, but just the other day, I saw the gentleman who gave me permission a while ago. Stopping by, I was reassured it was okay to continue snapping photos. Again, the snake warning. “Is the 1963 Impala still in back?” I asked. “It is,” he replied. I have an affection for barns. It’s a pleasure to dig into their various bits and pieces. It’s not always about one photo, friends. Exploration is instructive. 
Actually, it’s just one heron, foraging for fish along the North Fork of the San Gabriel River in Georgetown. I observed her for about 30minutes. Dragonflies, though much smaller, merit a photo or two. The ones here were seen at Georgetown’s Rivery Park this weekend. Just some critters, friends. 
Since March, the pandemic has affected many aspects of our lives. One of the biggest impacts is at nursing homes and assisted living facilities, who have had to make in-person visits impossible. I get why that is. The residents are among our most vulnerable. Their risk is greater. But families find a way. A friend in Taylor is an example. Recently, I was asked if I’d like to accompany my friend as he visited his 93-year-old mother ….. through the window to her room. Mama had only become a resident in December. He visits his mom every single day, sometimes twice. They chat by phone on either side of a window. Just looking at mama’s eyes, you know these visits mean a lot. Before joining them, I asked several times if he was okay with a camera’s presence. “People need to see this,” he explained. He’s right, friends. He practices caution in all aspects of his life. He understands. Still, it can’t be easy. We should all be such good children. 
It’s hot and dry in Central Texas. As farmers work their fields, dust is a given. Thankfully, when this photo was taken last evening, I was well away from the action. Weather controls so much of a farmer’s life. Farmers who’ve yet to harvest their cotton crops don’t need the moisture, but once the work is done, the rest of us welcome a bit of rain. 