Let’s keep words minimal here.   Tonight’s skies  were heavenly on the Blackland Prairie.   But here’s the thing…it’s East Williamson County, Texas.   I’d expect no less.

The end of a very long day was close to home, as I attended Taylor’s annual Patriot Day observance, held in remembrance of September 11, 2001.   Each year since the tragedies in New York, Pennsylvania and at  the Pentagon, the City of Taylor has set aside the evening of September 11 for this commemoration.   It is sweet, elegant and respectful.   My little town, while not always to my liking, does justice to this.

This morning, before sunrise, I left for Georgetown, to once again cover their Memorial Stair Climb held at the high school stadium.   On this, the 15th anniversary of 9/11, first responders in the area, including a few civilians this time, walked up and down the stadium’s steps in commemoration of that sad day.   Many of those taking part are firefighters, who trudged up and down toting full gear, not unlike the emergency service personnel in New York did on September 11, 2001.  That amounts to about 60-pounds, according to Georgetown’s Fire Chief, John Sullivan.   Participants this morning took 1,980 steps each, the equivalent of the 110-story World Trade Center towers.   The first photo below was a bit before dawn, as Battalion Chief Carl Boatright got his gear ready to carry.   

This post is an assortment of things that have found their way  in front of my lenses since yesterday evening.   There is no theme, just documentation.   Last night, one of my wanderings meandered past a field of cotton.   I’m not sure it’s a good year for cotton.  Farmers are saying there’s been too much rain.  The stuff, I’m hearing, is a bit soggy.   We’ll see.   Speaking of soggy, this morning I was at Taylor Regional Park for the City of Taylor’s annual Kite Day.   One little fellow and his dad made it onto the field, but then the bottom dropped out, resulting in postponement of the event.   A little girl waits with her her daddy, her kite, and her spool of twine,   hoping that rain would stop.   It did, but not soon enough.   The last one?  Well, it’s some sweet canines, on a stroll with their mommy and a friend, also this morning in Taylor.  They got caught in that rain, but found a dry place to wait it out.  When I saw them, the walk was almost done.   Apologies to any similarity to Elliott Erwitt images.

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.