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The river glideth on his own sweet will

We spent last weekend at Kurrajong which is at the foothills of the Blue Mountains ... quite close to home but with a great gaping valley between us is a longish drive away. After going down the mountains and then turning to climb back up into the hills we encounter the river at the border of the mountains. I have written of the beautiful Nepean River in my Blue Mountains Journal. The interesting thing is that this is the same river but somewhere about here it changes its name to the Hawkesbury and keeps that name as it meanders down to the sea.

Photo: Hawkesbury River, taken from Richmond Bridge

Musing:
Composed upon Westminster Bridge by William Wordsworth
"Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!"

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