Regarding my often-photogrpraphed windmills (there are many of them here), let’s go in close tonight.   I found this one, covered in rust, but still growing strong, to be be enthralling.  Elgin, Illinois, one must guess, is also farm country.   The others are of that wonderful river, the San Gabriel, that courses through this part of Central Texas, particularly East Williamson County.   I’m presenting it three ways, all from the same vantage point.   That last one, the detail?   It’s in color, but it sure comes close to black and white, does it not?  

These are from the eastern-most part of East Williamson County, Texas, taken Sunday morning as I rambled into new areas.   It was a cloudy morning, adding, of course, to the landscape.    Some are presented in both black and white and color, others, one way or another.   You decide what you like. … if any.

With little on my plate these days, the wandering, as gas money allows, is becoming more regular.  But that’s just fine, friends.   I love rambling into the countryside, and visiting some of the neat Texas towns close to home.   One of those is Thorndale, Texas, a community of between 1300 and 1400 in Milam County, a stone’s throw from East Williamson County.    It’s about 15 minutes from our Taylor home.   These were taken this evening, all around the quaint downtown area.   Thorndale was founded in 1878.   It’s surrounded by farmland, as is to be expected in the middle of the Blackland Prairie.  The brick on the old buildings has wonderful character.   The vintage Cadillac in the last photo is a nod to Frank Armstrong, one of my professors at UT-Austin many years ago.  Frank has photographed this beat-up old ride a time or two himself.  

After a meeting this evening in Georgetown, I found myself near Blue Hole Lagoon.   It was a given that I’d take a stroll there … with camera and tripod.   The lagoon itself is beautiful, but so are the trees.   

These photos, from July 6, 1977, were taken during a regularly-scheduled cattle auction held every week of the year in Shreveport, Louisiana.   They were generally serious, but quiet affairs.   This speaks to what I preach today to young photographers about looking beyond big events.   All around us, in every community in the world, things are happening that tell residents about the goings-on their area.   Look beyond the expected.   These were taken back in my days at the Shreveport Journal, the best newspaper on the planet.

We warmed into the 50s today in Central Texas.  It seemed almost balmy after the last couple of days!  Still, we’re dipping into the mid-20s tonight, with a high in the upper 40s Thursday.    Oh, I know my friends from cooler climates are laughing, but really, when it’s cold, it’s cold, wherever you are.   Thankfully, we don’t have to use snow shovels too much.   Actually, never.   These are the result of wandering around the prairie on this pretty Wednesday evening.   It never grows old.

Monday evening I posted a little of the full moon at the Circleville, Texas home of Carol Fox, a friend, rancher, teacher and novelist.   Carol has been so very generous to allow my wanderings  on the land that has been in her family for a very long time.   The San Gabriel River makes a path through there.  That’s not the river in the opening photo, just a nice. bit of collected water in a valley.  The trees?  What can I say?  They are. resplendent, particularly the old Bur Oak that dominates much of this post.  If truth be known, it’s the tree I went there to document, the moon a sweet aside.  The Bur Oak photos start where it’s reflected in the truck, continuing to the end.    So here’s a few photos from last evening.  The dog riding in the truck across the land is Sadie, who shares her life with Carol’s brother.   One thing I know, friends.   On a piece of land like this, a truck makes perfect sense.  I was thankful to access to one for this outing.  My Honda would not have fared well!

We’ve been pretty cloudy here on the Blackland Prairie the past few days.   Today was no different.   This evening, I visited the Circleville, Texas ranch of good friend Carol Fox, a rancher, novelist and teacher who graciously allows me access  to her family land from time to time.   Tonight’s visit was in hopes of photographing the new year’s first full moon, a Waning Gibbous one, 100% visible.   Visible, that is, if you don’t have clouds.    At any rate, I’m posting just three photos.  The first, where the moon just begins its ascent, is an opportunity to show off Carol’s beautiful old oak tree.    The others are just the moon, covered by clouds. Tuesday if the stars align, I’ll post some more from the ranch, but not necessarily of the moon.   We’re moving on.

If you’ve followed my posts for a while, you’ll maybe remember Joe.   Joe, in his late-60s, has always bicycled his way around Williamson County, Texas from his home in Taylor.   Some of us wondered if Joe had a home to go to.  This evening, on an extremely-frigid Central Texas night in Taylor,  with temperatures below 32,  I spotted him, biking along with a couple of bottled waters in his basket.    I’m happy to report that Joe indeed does have a place to go in from the elements.  It’s very small.   While I took a photo of that, too, it won’t be posted here.  Joe’s home is his home, not ours.  This is the last photo for 2017. 

There’s a little cove I pass by on my daily walks in Taylor.   Gathered there most mornings are a group of egrets.  This cove is near, but not at, Murphy Park, where a rookery is home to many avian beauties.   When I’ve returned with my camera to photograph them, however, they become extremely camera-shy, taking flight at the drop of a feather,   doing their own little bird boogie.   The photos presented here don’t do their aerial ballets justice, but we do what we can.   Happy 2018, friends.