The Evaluation (cont.)

The window is closing on 2014's crop of bluebonnets. But at present, I think this one is not as fine as either 2010 or 2012. Of course, they may still not have peaked yet. I fear I must go ahead with my plan for a day-long, far-ranging bluebonnet expedition before the window slams shut. But wait, you say. What about the rest of this drive? Wasn't there anything else to arrest your attention? Oh, yeah. . .

There's always the beauty and promise of an (empty) open road. And, in this case, there are the bluebonnets to consider. If I laid out my course to evaluate the year's crop, aren't I obligated somehow to carry on? There may well be tons of bluebonnets around the next bend, n'est ce que pas?

I'm often amazed by what's around the next corner; however, I am continually surprised by what I find when I drive the other direction on a road for the first time. I've driven Park Rd 4 many times, but never this direction, until Saturday. I was startled by this view looking west, above the junction with FM 2342 to Kingsland. Since we cannot always turn around and check out the scenery from the opposite direction it might help, certainly when we're on a scenic tour, to pay more attention to what's in our rear-view mirrors.

It also helps to change your focus occasionally. In this case, once out of the pickup and having taken the shot of the vista, I was able to look around at the component parts of it's composition. It's hard to conceive of a landscape architect having been at work here on the state's nickle to dress up the view as I came around the corner. And, if he had, could he have done his work any better? This is a beautiful arrangement of component parts! And not a bluebonnet to be seen.

Farther down the road, of course, there were indeed more bluebonnets, with some Indian paintbrush added as a counterpoint. . . maybe not as many in years past, but certainly more than last week when Amy and I passed this way.

By this time I've put things into perspective: shoot what's in front of you (and what's beside you and what's behind you) and enjoy yourself. Pay attention to the bluebonnets for your evaluation, but take the blinders off and appreciate the other things as well.

And what might be or might have been? When you read about bears and wolves in the woods, you're more alert walking through the woods. When your reading includes tales of Comanches roaming the Hill Country, you can't drive down US 281 without imagining a raiding party making tracks under a full moon. And, if you've enjoyed Louis L'Amour and J Frank Dobie, you'd almost certainly see a Longhorn staring back at you from the rocky hillside. This cow is one of Robert & Kim's brought all the way from San Angelo, mirrored and installed right where she should have been if I'd been here looking around for Comanches 150 years ago. See how that works? Reading... imagination... technology... opportunity...

Shake it off, Parker. Ah, there's the lake. Don't forget the evaluation. Some paintbrush and a few bluebonnets - but still more than last week. Yeah, if there are more than last week, which seems to be the case, you need to make that definitive day-long, far-ranging expedition. It may not rival 2012's trip, but I should still see more than I've seen thus far in 2014. And that'll be worth the effort.

A couple miles left on Park Rd 4 till I get to TX 29. Anything left to shoot? Of course! I'm going "the wrong way" after all. What do I see going this direction that I've missed all those other times headed south? Texas has always been a hard land. Look at this tree. Talk about a hard life! Beaten up, mostly dead, but still sending off shoots. Well, whatever it takes to survive. . .

If this post seems somewhat disjointed, I apologize. I've been distracted. Last week I recorded "The Prize" on TCM (I always liked Paul Newman). I started the playback when I started the post. . . since I'd already seen it any number of times it would be "background noise" and I could look up and pay attention when it got to the "good parts". So, everything's going along fine. . . then, "I don't remember that?!! And where is Julie Andrews? And what's Elke Sommer doing in this?" And Edward G Robinson for that matter. It seems that besides having to dig for things that had always been filed close at hand, I'm now mixing up movies, which I hardly ever did before. "The Prize" is not "Torn Curtain", and Paul Newman was getting a Nobel Prize, not attending a conference in Copenhagen. He was a writer in the first and a scientist in the second; he uncovered a plot in the first and snatched a secret formula in the second. I like them both - now - but they shouldn't be confused.