Thank goodness! We have achieved rain in Central Texas, friends. While none of us want flooding, most of us welcome the moisture. Let’s hope the precipitation forecast for tonight and Monday cleanses the air of ragweed and ushers in some cooler temperatures. Lord have mercy, it is autumn after all. Here I present you with a little symphony of raindrops, from my back porch this afternoon.
There are so many things I could post tonight, but I don’t feel the need to be labor-intensive. Rather than do that, let’s just give you sense of of what I so often see from my car seat, or in a mirror, or over its roof. It’s incredibly-peaceful here. 
A friend made a Facebook post Thursday, tongue in cheek, regarding autumn in Central Texas: it’s the beginning of our second summer. With temperatures topping out in the mid-90s yesterday, I got that. The Autumnal Equinox officially arrived in the Austin area at 9:21a.m. Central Daylight Time. I wasn’t feeling the need to record its toasty start. A little before 4p.m., however, plans changed. So what if it’s hot? It’s still a new season. A first stop was the Georgetown Public Library, where I played on Facebook for a while. A few minutes before 6, I got back in the car and headed for Berry Springs Park & Preserve. If nothing else, it’s a good place to watch birds on the pond and take in the beautiful trees. After visiting with some herons, it was time to head for home. But the clouds were dancing nicely. And a young fellow on a swing was getting some big pushes from his dad, almost high enough, it seemed, to touch the sky. It was a fitting start to autumn after all. 
“All of our years here on the farm have been good. Of course, I’m talking about the living of them, not the economy of them. The way I see it, anything you love and enjoy doing is not work. And I’ve done it from can to can’t.”
–Georgia farmer J.M. Brown in 1983
Mr. Brown, 71, during the time I worked on this story, was the patriarch of a Georgia family of farmers that began with his grandfather. In 1983, he was joined by his son, Jimmy, 52, and Jimmy’s sons, Danny, 26, and Chuck, 22. Together they farmed 1500 acres in South Fulton County, Georgia, the county home to Atlanta. Over the several months working on the story, they were traditional farmers, tilling the often-parched land, but diversified, harvesting trees for lumber and adding catfish to their pond, where fishermen paid to put their hooks in the water. It was all part of making a living the best way they knew how, keeping them to close to the land. They juggled bills and fixed the farm equipment themselves. That labor took its toll on the elder Brown’s back, landing him in the hospital for a while, but his wife, Vivian was always there for him. Perhaps nicest thing that happened was the birth of Chuck’s daughter, Ashley Ann. That’s J.M. Brown in the last photo, holding his great-granddaughter, the sixth generation to live on the family land.
Often, when I wander out the door on any given evening (or early morning), I don’t have a destination in mind. I didn’t last night, either, but driving along Texas HIghway 29, I remembered my old friend, the little red barn in what I call Jonah. Technically, it’s between Jonah and Taylor. Kids in the area attend Georgetown public schools. To me, it’s Jonah. The last time I stopped by for photos in at the start of May, with corn crops galore all around. A few weeks ago, I saw a truck and pulled in for a few minutes. The young fellow mentioned rattlesnake sightings “right over there.” “Over there” was the decider. I got in the car and moseyed home. People keep saying I need to get some snake boots. That’s under consideration. Those last two photos? They were taking as I was leaving. The first one includes the roof of my car, a hand-held exposure at a higher ISO. Deciding I was being lazy, I popped the trunk, set the camera on a tripod, lowered the ISO and shot it again. The quality’s a little better on the second one, but I kind of like the car hood!
As you drive north of Walburg, along F.M. 1105, you soon come to the little community of Theon, just a bump in the road, but coming over the rise, in the distance, you’ll see the twin spires of Holy Trinity Catholic Church of Corn Hill. 
Technically, it’s in Jarrell, Texas, but the community is Corn Hill. Last Sunday the church held their annual bazaar. As always, it’s festive. The parish hall fills with diners enjoying barbecue, fried chicken, desserts and plenty more. With dining complete, the hall is transformed into the area for the bazaar’s live auction, while another room is taken over for bingo, kolache sales and a cake walk. On the church grounds, even on this warm Sunday, there were kids’ games, raffles and plenty of live polka music. The multi-tasking fellow with the horn and accordion is none other than Fritz Hodde. For those interested, a visit inside the church sanctuary is always nice. Once again this year, I did just that, ending up in the choir loft, where a couple from Cedar Park were getting a look at the beautiful stained glass windows. This is the season for church bazaars in Central Texas. Holy Trinity is one of the best!
This was taken on the way home tonight, tooling along Old County Road 366, just outside Taylor. It’s a seldom-traveled route, which is a reason I like it, like so many paths along the Blackland Prairie. 
Sinus and allergy issues. What’s to be done? Sometimes the solution is a little medication, which I have done. It helped … a little. But you know what helps more? Photography. Tonight, at Taylor’s Bull Branch Park, I became one with the ducks again. They seem to be getting used to me. They’d be sharper, but hey, these are tripod-mounted thirty-second exposures. Stay focused, friends.
We have an abundance of hay bales throughout the Blackland Prairie on these late-summer days. This is a field of hay a little over a mile from home earlier tonight. 
It’s not often I wander to Bartlett, Texas, but I did this morning, for the town’s annual Old Town Festival, which included food, vendors, a parade and a tractor pull. The evening was topped off by music and a street dance (I didn’t make it to that, too many irons in the fire). There was, of course, an English Bulldog there. Her name is Roxi. The English Bulldog is the local high school mascot. Roxi has been to a few football games! Recent census figures put Bartlett at around 2700 folks. It’s about 50 miles northeast of downtown Austin, but only about 18 miles north of our Taylor home. Like so many small towns in this area, its business district is adorned with old architecture, from the late-19th and early 20th century. East Clark Street, the “main drag,” has lovely old brick streets. The town has been the site for movie-making, notably “The Stars Fell on Henrietta” and “The Dalton Boys.” NBC also set its series, “Revolution” here. I do wish the old downtown buildings had more businesses for their beautiful structures, but I’m glad its still intact. The remnants of one was a place for making homeade hot tamales this morning, too. 
