During the early morning hours, lightning struck the oil tank batteries above.
The Hoover Hellfighters Volunteer Fire Department drove miles into the grasslands to reach the burning battery.
After allowing most of the oil to burn, the firefighters spread foam around and into one of tanks.
It is important to allow the oil to burn, rather than allow it to run into the grasslands.
A firefighter watches from the distance, sitting among the yucca plants, native grasses and flowers of the Texan Panhandle.
Rolling the hose for storage before returning to Hoover.
Approximately one hundred and seventy-five barrels of oil burned or spilled into the draw.
The containing ditch, dug too late, contained a little amount of oil, and some of the firefighters foam.
Later, after the firefighters contained the fire and then left for home to rest, I walked around the destroyed battery, aware of my surroundings, consisting of the Texan grasslands and flowers, with the battery as an incongruent sight.
An American Robin accepts Lila's offer of food, while a Mockingbird waits patiently for her turn.
After post processing the image in the digital darkroom, the photograph below shows the portrait as it may have looked back in the [30s] when Carrigan's mother commissioned Hermann to paint a portrait of her son killed during WWI. 
Though the process of removing blemishes from this picture seemed a bit tedious and constrained by the lack of skill, I pursued my task just to take a look at the difference between the two versions. I can travel back in time in my imagination and look upon the painting as Hermann painted it, and look upon the un-blemished face of a young man struck down in that unspeakable war. (Or does "unspeakable war" sound redundant?) Dallas will remove the larger blemishes to make it look as if Hermann himself, with his own paintbrush, had restored the painting. 
While I count myself fortunate to witness this unique event, and feel thrilled and teary-eyed every time I see the Jenny aloft under the experienced control of Tom, if you ask me, I'll answer that they both belong and should remain within the safety of the walls of the museum. Tom, as a mortal, will not be with us forever, as an inanimate object would, and that is one thing I'd like God to change.
A Meadowlark on a taxiway marker.
A Horned Lark along the taxiway.
A Texas Scissortail flies above and between a Red-tailed Hawk's wings.
Scissortail.
The Great Horned Owl in the tree next to the cabin has become accustomed to our presence. She remained in the tree above us, while we sat in folding chairs in the shadows. I walked behind the cabin, found her, then raised my lens for a photograph.
