It’s interesting that in my wanderings, I actually land on a theme. These three photos, barns in various states of life, were taken last night (the first image) and earlier tonight. In case you ask, of course they’re not far from home. My sense is the first two are past their expiration date, but that last one? There’s a light on there for a reason. Have a good night, friends. 
A while back, , a recently-added Facebook friend, noticing my interest in documenting churches, mentioned New Sweden Evangelical Lutheran Church, in far northeast Travis County, a stone’s throw from Manor. These are photos taken there last evening, but for several years I have photographed this beautiful place. Not long after returning to Texas, in 2009, I was driving from Taylor to Austin via a farm-to-market road. On my left, in the far distance, there was this spire, rising above the prairie. Because of the nomenclature of where we live, it was visible for miles. Since then, I’ve stopped by occasionally. These are the latest versions. For years, the church’s sermons were only in Swedish. That changed, I think, in the 1930s. The history, however, remains. 
Is this beginning to be a broken record? Nevertheless, my fascination with the rookery at Taylor’s Murphy Park continues. As long as there’s air in my lungs, this will be a place returned to as often as possible. It centers and calms the stress of any given day. As mentioned before, this place is a meditation. One of the nice things about the rookery is simple: I get off the country roads, actually standing, or sitting, and watching what happens. No motor vehicles urging me to mosey along. Another plus: it’s a mile from our house. Even if it wasn’t, I’d still stop by, early in the morning, or, as with these photos taken recently, in the hours leading to the mellowness of fading light. 
The Bartlett High School Bulldogs football team had their home opening tonight as they took on a team also called the Bulldogs, from Dawson, Texas. Bartlett is a small Central Texas community of a little over 1600 that rests in both Willamson and Bell Counties. When I think of Friday Night Lights, it’s these tiny communities that come to mind. The Bartlett public school system is home to (at this writing) 341 students. Despite its size, it’s a diverse and inclusive community. I’ll leave it there. 
As part of our photojournalism program at University of Texas in Austin in the early 70s we learned in the ins and outs of view camera work. For those not familiar, a view camera is one of those very large bellows-operated things that requires use of a tripod, with the photographer ensconced under a black cover, focusing on ground glass that is upside down and reversed. While making exposures on 4×5-inch sheet film could yield amazing results, one of the reasons for the class was to make us slow down and really “see” what we were framing. It was a grand idea. I can’t speak for my fellow students, but when I returned to a 35mm camera, I really did see things more clearly. These photos were among a few taken in the East Austin neighborhoods in 1973, back then a working-class neighborhood. The neighborhood’s still with us, but now has become gentrified, way too pricey for many of the area’s long-ago residents. One thing this post doesn’t do is give you a sense of the detail obtained from a large-format camera. 
For a while I’ve been trying to get a photo of this particular tree a little north of Granger, but the angles just weren’t right. Tonight, after tromping through some tall grass, I think I got one I liked. The storm clouds helped. While there, this old barn, obviously visited by recent graduates, got my attention, too. 
It looks like I’m gonna stay with that cotton fascination for a while, but it’s simply a divine thing to see on the Blackland Prairie. Here’s a couple of photos taken so far this week. The first one’s near Noack, Texas, the second, taken around the time of Monday night’s storms, is a patch of wonder a little south of Bartlett. The more cotton, the better you feel, right?
This is a county road northwest of Granger, Texas where I found myself lost a few months ago. That doesn’t happen often, friends. These days I’m finding my way around just fine. Earlier today, turbulent weather knocked out the power at our Taylor home. I was not a happy fellow. When those moods take root, I take to these roads. By the time this bit of sweetness came into view tonight, those storm clouds had returned, bringing thunder and lightning, but not so much rain. These pathways through the prairie, whatever the weather, are resplendent. 
Early Saturday morning I was once again in place for the beginning of dove season in Central Texas. And again, my hosts were the Brinkmeyers, Wilbur and his son, Ted. Each year for quite a while dove hunters congregate near the open prairie fields to try their luck, arriving well before dawn. I was happy to see old friends coming from Louisiana in large numbers, including Daniel and his daughter, Kaitlyn, now 20, who’s been hunting with dad for many years. Kaitlyn’s friend Erin, a college classmate, was here this year, too. And Shane brought Ivy, his 3-year-old daughter, who toted her bright pink BB gun. It’s all good on our Blackland Prairie. 
A bit of this and that tonight, friends. Those barns, photographed a few times, are in Travis County, Texas, but not far from where we live. The grain elevators? Those are at the farm of my good friends, members of the Boehm family in Norman’s Crossing. And trains. That was last evening, between Taylor and Hutto, a photo to pay homage to my 66th birthday. I’ll keep shooting as long as there’s air in these old lungs. 
