A few weeks ago I took photos of a kids’ fishing contest at Georgetown’s Garey Park on a cold December morning. In looking for something similar, I came across photos taken in August 1982 at Sweetwater Creek State Park, in Douglas County, Georgia, about 20 miles west of downtown Atlanta. The differences? While for one thing, these were summer photos. Also, the fashions of the period probably date these, too. But the similarities are more important. Despite a 36-year difference, it’s still fishing. It’s still kids being outside, not in front of electronic devices, spending time with parents and grandparents. The Atlanta Journal & Constitution was a big-city newspaper, but they allowed me to pursue the things I thought important, too. People might tend to want to refer to these images as “cute,” but really, it was, and is, about covering the slices of life we all see. The freckle-faced boy in the opening photo sums it up nicely.

A few scenes from ramblings on a stormy night on the prairie. This post is mostly about the trees I like along a certain road. That opening photo also includes a horse I’ve visited with a time or two. The second and third photos are variations from the same pasture. My preference might be the lone tree. Except for the pastures, the photos could be black-and-white. The final image? Just a vehicle motoring along a long stretch of highway outside Walburg, Texas.

Christmas morning began by feeding Lucy, our cat, and Star, our dog, before settling in with a cup of coffee and a book. Since ours is home without small children, we take a restful, low-key approach to the holiday. My wife would catch up on our sleep. But then I remembered the weather forecast calling for fog on Christmas morning. Sure enough, peeking out my window after that first cup of coffee, there was a wondrous blanket of fog! I love fog. It defines and simplifies many scenes. After that peek, I grabbed the cameras and headed out for photos. The results are what you see here, including Taylor’s Murphy Park and a few scenes along the Blackland Prairie farm country. God’s country.

With no plan tonight, my cameras and I stopped in Norman’s Crossing. It’s been a while since I paid a visit to some very affectionate horses pastured behind the Norman’s Crossing Community Center, also home to Brushy Creek Baptist Church. While enjoying time with the horses, folks began to arrive at the church. Of course. This was the night for a Christmas Eve service. For a while, I observed this through the windows, but kept my eyes on those beautiful horses, too. About two years ago, on one of my wanderings, I met these horses. The building, however, didn’t look like any kind of church structure I’d known. Some research provided the answer. This church began its life as a one-room schoolhouse. This led me to Jock Norman, a grandson of the community’s founder, then in his early-90s. Jock had a set of keys to the community center. “They (the church) rent the space from the community center,” explained Jock. It’s no longer a school, but it has purpose. As do those wonderful horses. Happy Christmas.

It’s no secret I’m a huge fan of the moon. I don’t need to give a special name to any phase in order to make them special. They’re all special, from the tiniest sliver of a new moon right up to a full blast of lunar presence. This week, however, I watched it over a four-night period. The photos, top to bottom, are in order of the night they were taken, beginning Wednesday and concluding Saturday night. In the windmill image, the moon was in a Waxing Gibbous phase, at 91.3% visibility. The next three photos were taken Thursday night. The grain elevators are in the heart of Taylor, at Williamson County Grain. From there, I wandered to Coupland, where the moon shone brightly above St. Peter’s Church of Coupland, built in 1905 and 1906. Thursday’s phase, also Waxing Gibbous, was at 96.4% visibility. On Friday, I spent time in Rockdale, concluding my evening at the town’s newest park, Bridge Park, where two vintage bridges adorn this Milam County town. The bridge with all those wonderful lights will glow like this throughout the year, not just at Christmas. The color scheme, however, will vary. Friday’s moon phase: Waxing Gibbous, 99.2% visibility. Before moving onto the last two photos, taken Saturday night in Georgetown, I might add that actual 100% visibility was achieved before noon on this day, making it, of course, unseeable. The final two photos, with some clouds I really enjoyed seeing, picture the moon in a Waning Gibbous phase, at 99.6% visibility. Close enough for me, folks. I tossed in the last one since people seem to like closeups. Me? I like to give that disc a little space.

While I had something else in mind for the spire at Georgetown’s First United Methodist Church tonight, the end result was okay, too. Although much of my wandering involves treks along the Blackland Prairie, there are many beautiful sites to my west in Georgetown. This is one of them.

Just a few scenes tonight from some of my wanderings around the Blackland Prairie, all in East Williamson County, Texas. As you might know, the loss of our beautiful landscapes to development is a concern for many of us who live here. As much as possible, I try to capture what I can before it’s too late. The first three images are all along the same stretch of county road. The opening photo, where a house (right) and its barn (left) hold onto their place on this hill, might be my top selection. Perhaps you’d have to see it in person to appreciate it. The second photo is a nice little house that remains a domicile for a family. The third image is one I photographed in the warm months, when the vines, then green, covered it almost completely. The other day, in the late-afternoon sunlight, the green had gone, giving a different texture to the scene. The final two photos are simply things I liked, including a Christmas decoration. That last photo has no structure of any sort, just good farmland and sky. And if you look closely, there’s a windmill. They find their way into my images pretty often.

Right after arriving in Atlanta, in December 1980, I was assigned to work on a series about the state of mental health in the area for my employer, the Atlanta Journal & Constitution. One of the places visited was Atlanta’s Union Mission. Even though I’d just come from a much smaller city (Shreveport), the time spent photographing the street scene on Austin’s East 6th Street in the early 70s left me well-prepared for what I faced in Atlanta. Still, it was hard to see our fellow humans suffering. Some may have been just down on their luck, but mental health problems were the catalysts for much of this pain. All but the last image were taken at the mission. Afterward, I followed one of the mission’s temporary residents along Ponce de Leon Avenue for a while. It was sad then. It’s sad now.

Those of who who’ve followed my work for a while might remember a column written about the restoration of the historic Bartlett First Christian Church in the August Williamson County Sun.   The project is the brainchild of Huntsville resident Kris Ruiz, Associate Vice-President for Marketing and Communications at Sam Houston State University.   A while back, Ruiz purchased the 1890 church after it sat vacant for years.   Her goal?  To restore it and offer it to interested buyers as a unique home, or perhaps a community center.   Ruiz has a crew working steadily on this beautiful building, a structure  with really good bones.   Prior to taking the lead on the church,  Ruiz oversaw the revitalization of a vintage bank in Cumby, Texas.   It now serves as a unique home for its fortunate owners.   Earlier this week, on one of my evening wanderings, I drove by to see how things are going.   The crew was there, working well past sundown.  The exterior is looking close to completion.  I’ve no doubt the interior will be amazing, too.   Bartlett is a community of less than 2000 that straddles the Williamson and Bell County lines.  Ruiz has developed a passion for these small Texas communities.  Bartlett is fortunate she is taking the lead in their town!  

The fascination with birds in mass continues.   This wasn’t the planned subject tonight, but all I can say, every time I see these creatures is “wow.”   From what I can fathom, when they slow down long enough for a look, is that these avian wonders are grackles.  If in error, please advise.   It amazes me how they can fly so close together, so fast, and not ram one another into oblivion.