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All that heaving hissing metal, brings joy to the heart of the daughter of an engineer and the son of a train driver.

But none of it is actually heaving and hissing, the displays are mostly static, which you can no doubt tell from the pristine blackness and shiny brass bits.


  1. Wonderful bottom pic Joan, with that lovely coppery/bronze patina. Cobwebs are such intricate works of art woven with much attention to detail ... I always feel a tinge of regret when I disturb one.

  2. They are works of art when static, and theatre when in motion I would think.

  3. They are works of art when static, and theatre when in motion I would think.

  4. Martina beat me to it! I knew your father was an engineer, but fascinating to know that Ian's father was a train driver. You both need to go down to Goulburn ...

    1. Train driver, tram driver then refrigeration engineer at a meat factory. What's at Goulburn?

    2. A train museum and working turntable. I only know because Bruce Casperson waxed lyrical about it. I have not been myself.

  5. Refrigeration engineers often work closely with air conditioning engineers like MOM (My Old Man). Love the colours in the last shot. I have pics of train wheels but have never posted them. You give me inspiration.

  6. I see I'm not the only one who noticed the cobwebs ...


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The end

I retire from the workforce this week and to celebrate have decided to retire my current blogs and start afresh with a single consolidated blog - My Bright Field - to record the delights of my new life adventure.
If you are interested follow me over there.  I will still be Sweet Wayfaring and collecting Royal Hotels.  The delights I discover along the way will appear together with my gardens and towns where I live.

Blue Wren

Having finished the circuit at the zoo we settled down for a nice lunch at the cafe. This chirpy little blue wren came close to our table while his brown wife Jenny jumped playfully on the grass. Nesting swallows swooped in an out of the rafters.
Musing:The Blue Wrens and the Butcher Bird by Judith Wright
"Sweet and small the blue wren
whistles to his gentle hen,
"The creek is full, the day is gold,
the tale of love is never told.
Fear not, my love, nor fly away,
for safe, safe in the blackthorn-tree
we shall build our nest today.
Trust to me, oh trust to me."

Cobwebs they gather and dry grass,
greeting each other as they pass
up to the nest and down again,
the blue wren and the brown wren.
They seek and carry far and near,
down the bank and up the hill,
until that crystal note they hear
that strikes them dumb and holds them still.

Great glorious passion of a voice--
sure all that hear it must rejoice.
But in the thorn-bush silent hide
the nest-builders side by side.

Royal Hotel - Ganman

And I wrap up this trip with the Royal Hotel at Ganman.