Maybe I’m in the minority, but I love days like the one we had here in farm country.  Throughout the day and this evening we’ve had a fairly steady mist.  Temperatures didn’t climb out of the 40s.  And this was clearly mist, not rain.   It was enough to coat the roads and fields, but so far it’s not a serious rain.   These are a couple of views south of Granger, Texas.  

One of the places I like to photograph is New Sweden Evangelical Lutheran Church, a beautiful edifice a few miles north of Manor, Texas.   Although in Travis County, this area is definitely part of the Blackland Prairie farm country.   After almost 30 years in the hustle and bustle of Atlanta, Georgia, seeing this church for the first time in 2009 was a visual gift.   I recall driving along F.M. 973 from Taylor, looking into the far distance and seeing a spire, clear and distinct.   You wouldn’t see anything like this in Atlanta, friends.   Seeing that spire spoke a simple thing:  I was home.   The congregation for this church was established by Swedish immigrants in 1876.  The church shown in these three photos was completed in 1923.   The copper spire reaches 104-feet into the Texas skies.    These are photos taken last evening.    The first couple are meant to give a sense of the church’s place on the prairie.  The last one (hopefully) brings it home.

These three photos were taken recently on a drive along a county dirt road I like, but only when it’s dry, as it was when these were taken.  Most of the time I traverse the backroads of my part of Texas in an old Honda Accord.  It’s probably not the best transportation mode for where we live, but it’s fuel-efficient.  The first photo is self-explanatory.  The second photo speaks to loose dogs, a common occurrence in rural Texas.  These guys obviously wanted me to mosey along.  I obliged.   The last photo is a farmer getting a field ready for spring planting.   Farmers often work well into the night.  I like that work ethic.

This post, all photos made on this day, includes both the sun and the full moon, also called a Snow Moon.    The first image, taken this morning in Salado, Texas, is our planet’s sun.   Don’t mistake it for the moon, please.   The other images were taken tonight east of Granger, Texas.   They  are indeed the full moon. 

This was one of those nights where another post was planned, but when we were heading home with our groceries in Taylor, that Waxing Gibbous moon, over 98% visible, almost full, was looking pretty, made more interesting by numerous birds in the area.    While watching the birds and moon, my wife was enamored with what was behind us, in the western sky.  The color was divine.   “Like a painting,” she said.   So once the bird and moon fascination was over, I wandered into a weedy field at Taylor Regional Park.   My wife was right.  She usually is.

This is a followup to a post from a week ago, East 6th Street in Austin, Texas.   The photos were made in the early-1970s when I was studying photojournalism at University of Texas in Austin.   I’m pretty sure the photos were all taken in 1973, but one or two might have been in late-1972 or early-1974.   It was an ongoing  self-assignment exploration.   As mentioned last week, the corridor in downtown Austin was quite blue-collar.   People caught city buses to and from work.   They stopped for drinks at bars.   And there were, sadly, many people  down-on-their luck.    Far too many.   In recent years the street has gentrified.  It’s become a huge tourist destination, adorned with clubs, not “bars.”  There are still suffering faces there.  The pain continues, 47 years later.

These two photos were taken this morning at our Taylor home as I watched what remained of our snow-dusting leave us alone.   Too many years in newspapers did nothing to color my view of snow and ice.   In the event of snow and ice, one newspaper editor placed a note on the bulletin board: “In the event of snow, I expect 99% of you to be here, the other 1% in a ditch trying to get here.”    Yep.

Trees continue to get my attention.   While I’m pretty fond of autumn leaves, when winter comes and the leaves go away, we’re left with an essential nomenclature.   Some trees just have good bones.  Winter lets us see them.  And of course there’s good Texas skies.  In the second photo the layers at first got my attention, but the power lines at the bottom, though subtle, are interesting.   And dirt roads.   Just things I like.  Nothing special.  

This is a little stretch of country road not far from our home in Taylor, an area close to the beautiful San Gabriel River.  If recent posts are an indication you might assume that Andy is focused a lot on trees lately.   You’d be right.   These four photos were taken over a time span of about an hour, beginning while  the still-powerful sun graced a field, threading through blades of resilient grass. Once darkness arrived,  it became more enchanting.    I like glowing stars.  That very bright moon wasn’t at first included, but though extremely bright next to the stars, it seemed to fit into the scheme of things.   Transitions.  

Texas weather is unpredictable, particularly in winter.   Tonight, for instance, when these two photos were taken, it’s unseasonably-warm, with temperatures in the 70s.  Rain is expected before the evening completes its cycle.   On Tuesday, we’re supposed to reach the lower 80s. Then a strong cold front zips into the state Tuesday night.   Wednesday’s highs in our area of Central Texas?  Low 40s.   I’m glad these images  happened tonight, but do like cold weather.   I’m looking forward to mid-week!  These views are on the same road outside Coupland.