Each year, since 1915, Southwestern University in Georgetown, Texas has held candlelight services for the season of Advent.  Beginning in 2010, I photographed this ethereal  setting at Lois Perkins Chapel for the Williamson County Sun.    While the images might look similar for each visit, they all have the ability to slow one’s heartbeat, bringing a sense of peace, particularly with the little ones.   Regarding the chapel, dedicated in November 1950, alumnus and folklorist J. Frank Dobie said this:  “The new chapel at Southwestern is the most beautiful college chapel I have ever seen on the western side of the Atlantic Ocean.”   Precisely, sir.

These are some recent windmill photos taken in East Williamson County, Texas.   The opening photo was taken on a very lightly-traveled county road, the traffic non-existent on the night I made the photo, allowing use of a tripod and longer exposure.   It’s a long-dormant homesite.   The only thing left, it seems, are trees and that sturdy windmill.    The second, another longish camera exposure, west of Granger.  Once again, the tripod came in handy.  And what few drivers passed by were understanding of an odd fellow on the roadside with a camera.    The last photo, through a stand of trees, shows a well-worn windmill missing some of its blades.   One would assume this one’s retired, but still holding firm.  Since I was standing  in the middle of this road, with a few more cars, no tripod was used, but the ambient light was good.   No worries there.  

For whatever reason, a particular route I like to take when looking for photos is covered in huge masses of birds in flight.   I haven’t gotten close enough to determine what birds they are, but my guess would be either grackles or starlings.   At any rate, it’s fascinating to watch as they navigate the East Williamson County skies with seemingly-effortless skill and resolve.   If you look in the far distance, some local folks might have an idea of this location.  

South of Bartlett, north of Granger, on a late-November night in Texas as a tree meets the night sky, and an equestrian, honing her skills, finds solitude on the prairie.  

I love my Central Texas area in so many ways.   While not aligning politically with many of my fellow citizens, the uniqueness exhibited here is wonderful.   One community I like a lot is Granger, up the road a piece from our Taylor home.   This community, 1400-strong, just put up its annual Christmas tree.  I’d passed it a few nights back, but only gave it a passing nod until a friend mentioned that the tree was adorned with cotton harvested from area fields.   How the heck cool is that?    So the main images tonight are of the tree, plus a couple more, lights by the town’s S.P.J.S.T. Hall.   And Santa Claus.   In January, I posted a photo of his visage peering at me from the second-story window of an old building.   It was neat to see Santa still there… still keeping an eye on things.    God, I love small-town Texas. 

It was a day for celebration in Georgetown, Texas with the city’s 38th Annual Christmas Stroll.   You know the drill so I won’t add much copy with this post other than to mention the photos were taken for my friends at the Williamson County Sun.

Joyce White, 85-years-young, is one of the smartest, kindest, most patriotic people I am honored to know.  Her husband was a decorated World War II veteran.    When hearing this week that a Boy Scout from Troop 167 in Taylor earned his Eagle Scout designation by placing a flagpole at her home between Granger and Bartlett, I thought there’s no more deserving person on the planet.   What makes this sturdy flagpole even better? When darkness comes, a light automatically comes on, making it visible from quite a distance.  Here on the prairie, we’re fortunate in that we have the ability to see into (almost) infinity.   One of the things I love about Joyce is that she doesn’t  like to call attention to the good things she does.  And she does quite a lot.  With that in mind, a photo of Joyce is included, but the focus is that flagpole, a beacon to treasure.

Most of my philosophy about life was formed from childhood, the good and the bad.  While I’ll quickly tell you that working in journalism didn’t color my views on  things, sometimes it did.   For 45 years, photographing children has been a passion.    They are the innocents among us.    For more times than I care to think about, I’ve encountered heart-wrenching situations.    A couple are included here.   The first one was taken in December 1975, a little girl, perhaps 7 or 8, clutching onto her ragged doll at the Shreveport-Bossier Rescue Mission.   The second image is from the early-mid 1980s, during the Atlanta years.   That’s Leah, who I think was either 4 or 5, at a homeless shelter for children.   While parents worked at getting back on their feet, for whatever reasons, the shelter helped give the kids a little stability.    I’m posting these because I tire of hearing about  “fake news.”    I’m here  to tell you friends, these kids were real, achingly real.   The passion that drives all my work is something that can’t be helped.  It is what it is.  I’m okay with that. 

It’s likely I spend too much time and effort zeroing in on windmills, but they’re such rich subject matter.  Most of them, unless they’re beat up, missing blades, etc, look pretty much alike, but like skyscrapers in cities, it’s what you include with them.    For instance, consider this evening.   The Texas sky was incredible, even for Texas.   Add a pickup truck or two on a dirt road, kicking up the prairie dust, and it all seems to come together.   The first three are the same windmill.   The fourth is one I’ve photographed quite a few times, but each time it takes on a different persona.    Windmills, like their neighbors, grain elevators, are country skyscrapers. 

Tonight’s photos were all taken at Taylor’s Bull Branch Park on three different evenings, tonight included.   Autumn color was the intended theme, but as you can see, it’s not all about the color.   Mood counts, too.     This park is only a half mile from our home.   While I am enriched by the land and skies here on the Blackland Prairie, it’s nice to have this lovely space to clear my senses just up the road a piece.