When I was younger and living in Amarillo, it always seemed important to get where I was going and back as soon as possible.
For a few years after a divorce, my two boys and their mom lived in San Marcos. And so a couple of times a month, I’d make that 500-plus mile drive as fast as I could.
When I abandoned the Panhandle and moved to Austin, my freelance photography business kicked into a higher gear. The jobs were in every direction, in and around my new city.
I never griped about the mileage, but as I matured, I did start listening to my eyes. I made it a rule that if I saw something that caught my attention at 70 mph and I couldn’t get it out of my mind after a couple miles, I’d go back to get a picture—or at least to visit and decide if what I saw was worth a return trip at a particular time of day.
The drives are much more mellow these days after 50 years as a professional photographer, and I navigate using a spiral-bound detail map of Texas counties. Driving seems to be the second-most important skill in my line of work.
Of course, skill No. 1 is making a good picture upon reaching my destination. Most often the job involves capturing a portrait of someone who has accomplished something a magazine editor thinks is worthy of a story. But sometimes it’s capturing the feel, the presence of a place.
I’m pretty sure I’ve driven a million miles in Texas, but now I do it a mile at a time. That’s how the pictures in these pages were made, driving slow(ish), with eyes wide open.
I know my way around the Amarillo area, having lived there until I was 40. I was joyriding and admiring the late-day clouds when the lonely little tree appeared on the horizon.
Wyatt McSpadden
I was passing through Hico on my way to the Metroplex when I spotted this little house. It took some coaxing for the woman to pose.
Wyatt McSpadden
Early morning on the road between Earth and Dimmitt, in the Panhandle, familiar territory from my early years making a living shooting for seed and cattle operations. I hadn’t seen such a tall silage mound, and the man with his pitchfork caught my eye.
Wyatt McSpadden
A classic farmhouse, newly plowed field and epic sky near Granger, in Williamson County. Irresistible.
Wyatt McSpadden
I had to stop when I saw how the light was hitting this tree and the mailboxes between Red Rock and Rosanky, southeast of Austin.
Wyatt McSpadden
I have a collection of barbed wire, plastic and wind pictures. Artsy pictures of trash.
Wyatt McSpadden
A blue Dodge seems to have a permanent parking spot between Sandy Fork and Luling.
Wyatt McSpadden
