Yesterday, while in Georgetown, I decided to stop by Blue Hole Lagoon, just a bit north of the town square.   Over the summer, this popular spot was packed with humanity.  Now that school is back in session, I wanted a sense of it in late-day light.   With tripod in hand, I watched the sun drop below the horizon, taking shots of the waterfall, the granite face on its north side, etc.   As I was preparing to pack it in, a couple young fellows, one toting a camera and tripod, were enjoying the scenery, too.  Then the one without a camera walked out onto the waterfall, toting what appeared to be a leash, but sans pooch.  On land, the friend with the camera gave an “okay” signal.  The next I knew, the night was filled with more amazing light as the waterfall fellow lit something attached to the leash and commenced to twirl it round and round.   It was like a gigantic sparkler!   With my own camera tripod-mounted, I snapped the shutter, too, a 20-30-second exposure.  The photographer showed me some of his other photos.   I was impressed.  And I don’t impress easily.  The “torch” they were carrying?  It’s comprised of a steel wool pad (think Brillo), but the kind without soap, a cooking whisk and yes, a dog’s leash.   The steel wool is placed into the whisk, attached to the leash, and viola!  You have yourself a huge sparkler!  It wasn’t so much on fire as just sparkling.  And they were on water.  My guess is it’s a pretty safe thing to try.  I enjoyed the diversion.   And I also enjoy the lagoon, sans sparklers.   Just a nice, peaceful place, very very blue at this late hour.  It’s a good name.

Most of the archival photos have been posted on Facebook, but I’m switching things up.   Facebook’s presentation formats are, at best, stodgy.   On this site, they get a better viewing.   At least I think they do.  This is from my days at the Atlanta Journal & Constitution.   On one of my wanderings around Marietta in late-March 1982, I happened on a bicycling postman, Mr. Charles Holbrook.  His delivery area included parts of old Marietta.   I liked the way he managed to do his work, but deliver the mail, too.   Friends today would question his lack of a helmet.   I might agree.   For this point in time, however, it seemed okay. 

Sitting still for any length of time isn’t part of my nomenclature, but at times I do wish it was.   How nice it would be to just quietly sit, clear the mind, perhaps meditate.  But, as Popeye famously said “I yam what I yam.”   My meditation, if you will, is photography, and a wee bit of writing, too.   Labor Day in Central Texas was a mix of clouds, wind and (sometimes) rain.   The skies looked good enough to hop in the car and wander around the Blackland Prairie for a while.   The stops included recurring subjects, like the abandoned house on a dirt road, presented in color and black and white.   And there were churches on hills,  Immanuel Lutheran Church, shown twice in this post, and Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, in Wuthrich Hill.  Yep, that’s a hill!   A field of cattle couldn’t hide their curiosity near sunset.   Speaking of sunsets, Monday’s was nice, too.  After the sun went down, a jet skirted across the blue-magenta sky, saving a spot for a new moon.  And there were glistening railroad tracks, too.   Subjects repeat themselves, but I try my doggone  best to make them fresh.

An abandoned house.

Abandoned house, in black and white

Abandoned house … a different perspective

Abandoned house detail, a monotone treatment

A warm sunset

Sunset, with context

Day’s end at Immanuel Lutheran Church

Motoring past Immanuel Lutheran Church as light fades

Curious cows … and a dragonfly (look closely)

Fading tracks

Birds & clouds on C.R. 419

Along C.R. 419

Sharing magenta skies with the moon

Storm clouds at Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, Wuthrich HIll

Excessive rain in recent weeks may have an effect on what dove hunters are seeing in the skies on this first week of dove-hunting season in Central Texas, but it didn’t curb the enthusiasm of hunters flocking to East Williamson County before dawn on Saturday.    Once again this season, Wilbur Brinkmeyer and his son, Ted, are opening up their expansive fields for hunters.    Among those with early starts were Jeff Stone and his son, Ryan, accompanied by Gunner, Ryan’s very active German Shorthair Pointer, ready to fetch.   And there were Austin Olson and his brother, Bayley, as well as Chris Carpenter, his vest loaded with shells.   Folks also drove  from neighboring states, like Daniel Campbell, with daughter Kaitlyn, 18, who make their home in Converse, Louisiana.   This year, Kaitlyn’s cousin, Emily, 20, normally a deer hunter, came along to try her luck.  The season is longer this year, continuing through November 6, followed by a second season starting December 17.   There’s still time.  In the meantime, at the end of 13-hour day, Mr. Carpenter was still smiling as the sun went down behind him.   “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said. 

Taylor was graced with a little sliver of new moon hovering above some interesting cloud patterns at 8p.m. on Saturday.  If you look closely, on the right, it has company, a bright little star.   I’ll leave it at that.

While some photographer friends are making their way up and down the sidelines on this Friday night, I am not.  And that’s okay.  I’m watching Friday night light.

Last weekend I spent a few hours photographing the annual Sterling Gloves Boxing Tournament, once again held this year at Georgetown High School.   Boxing isn’t a sport where I’ve been in a participant, the exception being school yard tussles as a kid.   But it’s a sport, if you apply yourself, becomes all-consuming, the mental part of it, too.   These photos mostly include a lot of young boxers, but the oldest entrant was actually 59.  He’s the fellow waiting in line for a pre-bout physical exam.   Attendees to these events are just as likely to see female boxers enter the ring.    It’s an interesting, focused sport, steeped in culture and tradition.

On the way home from viewing the Elliott Erwitt exhibit at UT-Austin’s Harry Ransom Center last evening,  the cloud patterns, as they often do, got my attention.   My route home took me through Manor, then up F.M. 973 so I veered off course and paid another visit to New Sweden Evangelical Lutheran Church, gracing its slice of Texas prairie since 1922.   For a different look, it’s presented here in black and white.  Those are cotton fields on either side of the road.  That urge satisfied, I meandered on back to 973, but stopped for a pair of nice red barns on my right.  For obvious reasons, it’s in color.   I never tire of Texas skies.

Taylor’s Bull Branch Park was once again host to KidFish, an event designed to encourage the love of fishing.   The scenic little pond at the park was stocked with extra catfish, but those rascals apparently stayed close to the bottom all morning.   That didn’t stop the kids, and their parents, and grandparents, from having a grand time, even if it was a tad warm!   My little town may be small, but it’s got a whole lot of heart.

The Georgetown Palace Theatre begins its run of “42nd Street” tonight on their Springer Memorial Stage.    Most of what I’ll post from their productions will be on Facebook, but let’s represent it here, too.   It’s a grand production running weekends through September 25.