Who, on Earth, can resist the allure of a full moon? Twelve nights each year, we gaze into the sky as the lunar satellite casts cold light on the planet.
Concordia Cemetery in central El Paso doesn’t look like much at first sight. The disparate collection of headstones, crosses, and mausoleums stakes out a 52-acre expanse of dusty desert in the shadows of residential neighborhoods, a carpet wholesale warehouse, and Interstate 10.
The artist, inventor, architect, and teacher Buck Winn first beheld the hills of Wimberley in the late 1930s. Enchanted by the valley’s flowing waters and natural beauty, Winn and his wife, Kitty, bought 1,100 acres about two miles east of the old limestone buildings on Wimberley’s square.
Doug Baum’s farm outside of Waco looks like most others in Central Texas. There are a few scattered, scrubby mesquite trees, an old windmill from the Axtell Company in Fort Worth, and a maze of barbed wire fencing to separate the donkeys and the goats from the camels.
Among the many good reasons to visit downtown Galveston, one of the more obscure, but best, is a passion for song. As often as four nights a week, savvy aficionados of a distinctive Lone Star State troubadour tradition trek to the Strand Historic District.
The desert canyonlands formed by the Rio Grande, Devil’s, and Pecos rivers may appear inhospitable to travelers driving west of Del Rio on US 90. Rugged limestone canyons cut through sun-drenched desert plains of thorny brush vegetation like sotol, lechuguilla, yucca, and prickly pear. But to hunter-gatherers some 4,000 years ago, this uninviting territory was a veritable garden.
If you’re interested in learning more about the ancient canyon-dwellers and rock art of the Lower Pecos Canyonlands, here are some online resources to get you started:
When Houston Businessman Jesse H. Jones approached the federal government for money to help build the San Jacinto Monument in La Porte, it took a little ingenuity to get Uncle Sam to open his wallet.
After crossing the Red River into Texas in December of 1832, Sam Houston’s first stop was the city of Nacogdoches, the gateway to Mexican territory and home to some of the region’s most influential residents.
The late, great Texan Dolph Briscoe Jr. loved his native land as much as anyone who gazed upon the storied walls of the Alamo, beheld the timeless passage of the Rio Grande, or strode both proud and humble beneath a vast Texas sky. Born in Uvalde in 1923 and raised on the 50,000-acre Chupadera Ranch, he served as governor of the state from 1973 to 1979.
Approaching the awe-inspiring Texas Capitol, I always feel a little small—but in a good way.
It’s been 50 years, give or take, since a clean-shaven, copper-locked singer-songwriter from up past Waco first took the stage at John T. Floore Country Store, which was then—as now—just a little honky-tonk nestled among the live oaks west of San Antonio. No recording exists of that performance, but why would it? No one knew then that this slightly built guy with the nasally voice would become Willie Nelson, the icon, or that the relationship he built with Floore’s would still be going strong into the 21st Century.