Bluebonnet Recce. . . No Joy

After two days of rain, I was really looking forward to my hill country reconnaissance as the cloud cover started to break up. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining about the rain. We got about 5 inches during the two days, and I'm grateful for that. I saw plenty of bluebonnets yesterday along the roadside as I made my way past Inks Lake, Kingsland, Llano, Enchanted Rock, Fredericksburg, and Marble Falls. My problem was that the two days' rain led me to anticipate large blooms and extravagant color. Instead, the flowers were smaller than I expected and the color uninspiring. I might have turned back or changed plans on the fly to take advantage of the fact that I was cruising the hill country with my camera on a beautiful day, but I persevered with my scout. I didn't worry about the flowers, just kept my eyes open and made notes of where I should return next week when the colors peak.

I was sure that I wandered off on my major bluebonnet tour last year during the second week of April; the drive yesterday was just in case the wildflowers reached their peak a little earlier this year. Well, as it turned out, I enjoyed the drive, took but a few pictures, and looked forward to next week. But, alas, when I checked the blog for last year's posts I discovered yesterday's trip was only two days ahead of last year's peak color. It seems I screwed around and missed the boat for 2013. Be that as it may, I did get some pictures yesterday and, though they weren't what I had gone out for, they're not terrible and provide fodder for my continuing PS education.

This was as much an exercise in PS techniques as anything else. I like the composition, the color and, after adding a tone gradient in the bottom left corner, I'm pleased with the lighting too. Not much here in the way of the flowers I'd come looking for, but I like the vantage point, looking down from an overlook on Park Road 4 approaching Inks Lake from Texas 29.

This is the overlook, which I shared with a couple of elderly ladies - also taking pictures. Between shots, I looked at both of them - at opposite ends of the overlook - and was completely surprised at the realization that they were probably my own age. You're not really as old as you feel. Usually, you're older.

These two shots (above & below) constitute a paean to the zoom lens. I took them from vantage points several feet and a few minutes apart, but point of interest - the rocky bed of Spring Creek - is obviously the same in both shots. Zoom lenses make life so easy for today's photographers. This creek bed is more or less typical of Hill Country creeks.

 

Spring Creek feeds into Inks Lake at the Devils Watering Hole, shown in these shots (above & below) just beneath the overlook.

Half a mile up the road, towards the park entrance, a bridge crosses Spring Creek. As long as I've been coming here, I must have crossed the bridge 50 times or more. Yesterday was the first time I gave it more than a glance. Of course, I was probably driving every time I crossed it and I do try to pay attention to the road. But this is a nice view, and one would think I'd have stopped at least once before. . .

No, I didn't paint this. While I was working with the image it occurred to me how much the composition looked like a painting and wondered what it would look like on canvas. My first thought on looking at it was that I wish I could have painted it. Then I thought, "Stephen ought to come out here and paint it." Then I thought how uncomfortable he would be standing at his easel, his back to traffic, as cars, trucks and motorcycles zoom past. Then I thought, "Ain't digital photography grand!"

There followed a lot of driving, some slowing down to take a look at a view or two faster drivers would probably miss, but not much stopping to take pictures. After all, I was still under the impression that I was ahead of the curve in regards to the wildflowers' peak. If I found a great view, I could swing by and catch it next week.

I was enjoying the drive and the exceptionally pleasant weather, however, and the two day's of rain had cleared the haze so prevalent during our continuing drought. I took a couple shots as I approached Enchanted Rock from the northeast, but they were into the sun and I didn't expect much. Having passed the Rock and being familiar with the view from the direction of Fredericksburg, I expected better lighting at this time of day, but also that the view would be partially hidden around the curve. I had not taken into account the difference 20 or 30 feet would make from the eastern verge of the road to the stand of agave and cactus on the western side. I'd caught a glimpse in the mirror as I came around the corner and veered to a screeching halt amid reflector posts with nary a scratch. The clear air, the time of day, and the extra 20 or 30 feet made all the difference.

If you're unfamiliar with Enchanted Rock, it's a granite batholith (underground rock formation uncovered by erosion), second in size only to Georgia's Stone Mountain in the United States. It was acquired in 1978 by the Nature Conservancy of Texas from the Moss family of ranchers, then deeded to Texas Parks and Wildlife in 1984. There's a Parks and Wildlife video on YouTube, here.