This weekend I attended the 115th Annual Celebration of the Williamson County Old Settlers Association at Old Settlers Park in Round Rock.   While they meet for business purposes, the most fun thing is the music provided each year.  The Old Settlers Association includes families of the original settlers here in Williamson County, Texas.  On Friday night, I stopped by to observe and photograph their annual fiddlers contest.   Among the entrants was 12-year-old Meredith, the great-niece of Irene Michna, the association’s president.   Meredith has only been playing her fiddle for a few months, but she’s part of her school’s orchestra in Waco.  Meredith calls her fiddle a “violin.”   Meredith was a surprise entry for her great-aunt, who was overcome with a sweet happiness.  Michna, one of my Taylor neighbors, is currently in treatment for cancer, but she remains upbeat and wonderful.   It was good to see her reaction to her niece’s performance.  And there are others presented here as well, including 11-year-old Jackson, a young fellow from Austin who’s been fiddling for eight years.  And then there’s 93-year-old Joe Chovanec, still fiddling.   I did some video this time, too.  If I can figure out the editing process, it might end up here, or on Facebook.   Best wishes and prayers for Irene. 

Honestly, I try to hold back on taking too many sunrise or sunset photographs, but in the years since returning to Texas, they catapult my senses into a nice place.  This one’s a sundown not far from Coupland, Texas.  May your weekends be good, friends.

“Mary Poppins” begins tonight at the Georgetown Palace Theatre.   It’s an excellent production, directed by Ron Watson and starring Katya Welch as Mary Poppins and Ismael Soto III as Bert.   Everyone’s spot-on! This plays on their main stage, the Springer Memorial Stage every weekend through August 12th.   As usual, only a few photos here, but more on Facebook.   These photos were taken for my friends at the Williamson County Sun.

The notion of laundry hanging out to dry has always been a fascination.   Like many families growing up in the 50s and 60s, we didn’t have clothes dryers, we had clotheslines.    For some, it’s still a natural way to go.   I’m posting two photos today, taken 39 years apart.   The first one was taken in September 1979, in Atlanta, Texas, the northeast Texas town where my father grew up.   Passing through town, the clothes drying in a warm Texas breeze merited a stop.   That was the case  again this week, while driving on a country road outside Granger, Texas.   I looked at the current scene in black-and-white, but the subject matter, this time, was better as I saw it.   A certainty in Texas is that we’ll have plenty of sun, and heat, to dry things the natural way.

Coupland, Texas, according to the 2014 census, has a population of 298 people.  But for such a tiny dot on the map of southeastern Williamson County, Texas, it packs in a lot of charm.   Tonight’s photos were taken over three days.  They are not photojournalistic, but perhaps they are impressions?   Maybe.  I’ll touch on a few things in this post, including the opening photo, showing the town’s main thoroughfare, with the almost 100 year-old Coupland Inn and Dance Hall on the left.   The red facade with the tree’s reflection provides another look at that same place.  And there’s the old mill area across the tracks, plus the Coupland Volunteer Fire Department, its flags flying nicely in an evening breeze.  A couple of images include Coupland’s little red caboose, being renovated with the goal of becoming a children’s museum.  Already redone, in front of the caboose, is the depot.  My odd shot of it was taken through a window.  The red at left is another view of the inn and dance hall.   And the free lending library in front of the depot.  Finally, a photo of St. Peter’s Church of Coupland, photographed earlier this evening.  There’s more, but that’s for another time.

If there’s a theme to this post, let’s just call it rural. Oh, and both were taken last evening.   Quite often, well actually most of the time, I just ramble along.   If something strikes my fancy, and someone’s not about to rear-end me, I roll to a stop.   It’s sad to think about it, but even out where we live civilization is beating a path to our doors.  And fields. And skies.   People have to live somewhere, but man do I want to see some of our Blackland Prairie’s persona kept intact.   Tonight’s photos can speak for themselves.  Or not.  Time to mosey on, folks. 

Let me get this out of the way up front …. yours truly is averse to high places. Think of that as understatement.   In a way, it’s funny because when I was a kid, the roof of our house was a place I used to go to for reflection.  Don’t misunderstand.  That caused perspiration, too, but once up there, the neighborhood view … and the peacefulness …. was nice.   As I grew into adulthood, however, that fear of heights only increased.  Back in the 70s, my wife had to call the fire department to extract me from the roof of our house in Shreveport.   I made it up there to do some roof cleaning and commenced to freeze.  Since returning home to Texas a few years ago, I’ve been fascinated with those shiny, but tall grain elevators that adorn this countryside.   A farmer friend offered to let me climb up to the top of the tallest one.  “The view from up there is great!” he explained.   I thanked him, but declined.  Fast-forward to 2018.   Our new veterinarian, Dr. Dana Boehm, grew up a farm girl in Norman’s Crossing, Texas.   Her brother Troy is tilling the soil on about 3600 acres this year.   And they have some mighty fine grain elevators. Recently, picking up some meds for our dog, Star, she offered access to the tallest of her family’s elevators.  “I’ll spot you,” she offered.  Last night, with Williamson County storm clouds looking nice, I decided to accept her offer.  From a distance, they look imposing, but the first steps are pretty easy.   The last journey, to the summit, took  a bit more work.   But when finally making to the top, surrounded by acre upon acre of fields filled with corn and cotton, all I could do was take deep breaths, sit down and say “wow.”    Was it worth it?  You betcha!   Near the end of this post is a photo of Dr. Dana, and one of, well you know, right?  I’ll be doing a little more in coming weeks as Dana’s brother begins his corn harvest.   But last night was a milestone for a big old chicken.  Thank you, Dr. Dana.

Right here in the heart of Taylor, Texas we have Williamson County Grain, complete with some very nice grain elevators.   The other night, on the way back from a wandering, I stopped by for a look, from both sides.   It was a mighty pretty evening.  Our skies never get boring.

The place where I live is adorned with the most wonderful land and sky.   When you add the work of our farmers, it’s beyond words.   These are a few photos taken this week, including tonight, in areas around the Blackland Prairie in East Williamson County, Texas.   Right now, we’re seeing an abundance of milo and corn.   Our cotton is progressing nicely, too.   We’ve had some stormy skies, but not nearly enough rain.   Let it come.

Let’s keep it simple tonight, okay?  Just windmills adding to the scenery in East Williamson County, Texas.