From Saturday evening in Taylor, Texas, the last day of summer.    We’ll look forward to autumn’s arrival ….. in November.  Calendars are hopeful suggestions here. 

I was up well ahead of sunrise for this year’s Texas Mamma Jamma Ride, coordinated by Lone Star Circle of Care.   The cycling event began at Taylor’s Murphy Park, with cyclists trying several distances, including 70, 50, 25 and 15 miles.   This ride raises funds for Lone Star’s Big Pink Bus, a mobile mammography unit  that travels around Central Texas, helping women get care they need.   Quite a few breast cancer survivors ride each year.   It’s a fine event, a great cause.  But take note of the photograph with two women, friends wearing identical  red jerseys.   The lady on the right is Carla, a well-known cyclist from our area.   On June 14th, Carla sustained very serious injuries when struck by a motor vehicle in Taylor.   Thankfully, she not just survived, but has thrived.  She and her friend, a cancer survivor, did the 50-mile ride today.   A number of cyclists wore “Go Carla Go” stickers on their jerseys.   This ride does so much good, but a lot of folks were also overjoyed to see Carla riding again.  She’s an inspiration to many who know her. 

For as long as I’m able, you’ll see photos taken during daily walks, a few tiny landscapes taken with a feather-light Olympus mirrorless camera.   A few photos from morning walks this week, all in Taylor.  

Both photographs were taken at essentially the same location, but with different lenses.   Each is adorned with subject matter I love.   Continued development may impact these places, but hopefully it will be gradual process.   The land and sky are peaceful in our slice  of Central Texas.

The 2023 cotton yield in our area was so bad I didn’t make an effort to do photos at a cotton gin, but 2024 is a far better year, reason enough to spend time at Waterloo Gin, just east of Taylor.   Co-owners David Woollett and Clement Strmiska are staying very busy this summer.  Something I’d forgotten was just how dusty cotton gins can be. My allergy and sinus issues were  quick to remind me, but I still enjoyed  watching this team in action. Clement’s daughter Holly is there to help, too.  These photographs were taken on three recent visits.  One evening I rode along with Clement while he retrieved 19,000-20,000 cotton modules from the fields.   The gin has nine trucks, but not all are running all the time.  Sometimes the state power grid lets the guys know it’s time to call it a day a little early, but mostly they work past sunset, usually six days a week.  Cotton gins are atmospheric reminders of our state’s heritage.   Even in tougher years, Texas remains the top cotton producer in the United States.

It’s been a few years since I last photographed St. John Evangelical Lutheran Church in Richland, Texas, actually Pflugerville now.   I was shocked to see the area in front of the church taken over by development.   I gave it a pass, but managed a sunset photo before moving along to New Sweden Evangelical Lutheran Church, just a short distance away.   Tonight’s full moon, a Harvest Moon,  is from New Sweden.   I try to refrain from returning to the same place too much, but the church in New Sweden continues to inspire.

From right here in Taylor, Texas tonight, a Waxing Gibbous moon, at 98.3% visibility, shines over Williamson County Grain.   The birds are egrets en route to the rookery.

This season’s cotton crop is looking far better than what our farmers were handed in 2023, when heat and drought combined to make it a problematic year.    A few evenings back I joined Aaron Martinka as he commenced harvesting his 1100 acre cotton crop.   The photos seen here were taken near Walburg.   I’m seeing a lot of fields awaiting harvest, most looking quite elegant.   This is a crucial time when farmers might not want the rain to come for a few days.   It’s a difficult chore to harvest a soggy field.   Many thanks to Aaron for his kindness in allowing me to tag along. 

You know, I take these photographs on daily walks, but they mainly fulfill the need to photograph something.   Thank goodness for smaller cameras that don’t beat one up.   From the last few mornings.   All are in Taylor, but the red flowers.   Those are in Georgetown.  Sometimes, if it works out, I stroll over there, too.  Just watching light, friends.  Even on fire hydrants. 

Whenever my decrepit self allows, it’s rewarding to connect with the first light of day.    These were taken this morning during my brief drive from Taylor to Georgetown.  Sunrise was a few minutes after 7a.m.   Less than five minutes later, the San Gabriel River merited a photograph.  The post concludes at the Jonah School site.   The school opened in 1922.  That pecan tree is likely a bit older.   The merry-go-round, I’m pretty sure, is original.  It needs some work, but it’s still here.    A tired photographer also remains.