Recently, I published a photo of a group of OU celebrants following the OU-TU football victory last fall that included my beautiful granddaughter Emily from Houston. Well, being gorgeous in the Rogers Clan knows no geographic boundaries. It spreads all the way to North Central Texas as is exemplified by this photograph. My Dallas granddaughter, Caroline (far left), soon to be a Highland Park HS graduate and two of her best friends took time to pose prior to their Senior Prom. So there you have it.....the two largest metropolitan cities in Texas are represented most ably (and beautifully) by two Texas natives coincidentally from the same family tree.
At the recent Plein Air Southwest paint-out, it was a cause for celebration to reunite with renowned plein air artist and good friend Peggy Immel. And as an added bonus, I was able to finally meet in person her husband, photographer extraordinaire, Steve Immel. After several years of following one another's blogs and exchanging notes, an introduction to this world-traveled pro was long overdue. A talented duo they make, plus they're just plain fun to be around!!
Anyone who's ever played the game knows what an integral part coordination plays in golf. It's also part conditioning, part mental, part physical, where one must not forget head down, eye on the ball, knees bent, arms straight, and on and on and on. As a fellow golfer once pointed out, "There are only 375 things you must coordinate during your backswing to insure a good shot". But it seems that this player has taken into consideration yet another aspect: wardrobe. Even down to the Day-Glo logo on her shirtsleeve, which matches the skirt, which matches the hat, which matches the ball....this is coordination taken to the next level.
Maybe this should be rephrased. He's not on fire....and from the expression on his face, his errant golf shot is not on fire, so the only thing burning is his stogie. And it's leaving an impressive footprint of smoke suspended in air. Maybe this post should be retitled "The Last Bastion", because the golf course is one of the few places where a man can fire up a good Cuban import without suffering laser-like stares of condemnation.
Tranquilly shaded by trees on a sunny afternoon, the only remaining evidence of the Texas farmhouse that once stood here is the fireplace, chimney and a supporting wall. The metal cutout of a raven seems almost menacing as it stands defiantly on the mantle, one of only a few things to survive what must have been a horrific storm years ago.
It's a day when it's so cold your hair hurts and there's just not much you can do about the frigid, gale-force winds other than grin and bear it. It's called Winter. You must remember that season that's been missing from our calendars here in Texas for the last two years. When this picture was taken at a First Tee golf tournament, it was as miserable as it looks and I recall the only warmth I felt for more than four grueling hours was from the beautiful smile of this dedicated volunteer.
This once imposing structure and its servants quarters sit in a field of bluebonnets slowly succumbing to neglect. Upon inquiry as to its history, there were a number of unanswered questions except for a weather-worn sign that bluntly informs the curious of the owner's wishes.
Reckon there's no need to tell you where this particular mailbox is located. Just proves you never know when you're gonna find a Lone Star relic, but your odds are always better on less-traveled lanes like this one to Lake LBJ outside Marble Falls, TX.
With a Marketing Degree from Southern Methodist University, I established my own advertising agency specializing in logo design, capabilities brochures, print/radio/television promotions and client relations. An integral part of my creative labors included photography, a passion that has stayed with me. I hope you enjoy my artistic endeavors.