Skip to main content

A prosperous town


We are on our way into Blayney, a busy town of some 3000 people.   It's only a half hour drive from the cities of Bathurst and Orange.

This is a town that doesn't depend entirely on the rural community with its drought/flood cycle of miseries, though it's located in gorgeous and fertile country.  Nor does it depend on age and decay to attract tourists to gawk at its past, though it's an 1850s gold town.

Over the next few days I will use Blayney to explore the things that can make a country town prosper.

Comments

  1. My grandmothers had family connections in Blayney. She always told a story about having a real white Christmas in Blayney in the 1950's. Looking forward to seeing some shots over next few days.
    Enjoy your Easter Joan.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That cold summer must have hit the mountains too, an old lady in the train was talking about it. It made me complain a little less about our cold wet summer.

      Thanks for the Easter greeting. The weather is glorious as the moment so I am looking forward to it.

      Delete
  2. Lovely rest ful picture of the countryside. I'm interested to know what keeps the town alive. We are watching that series on TV about Trundle trying to kick start their town by offering houses for one dollar a week rent.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am watching that show too. I feel sorry for the fellow with the broken down verandah who has put in a real effort on the inside. I don't feel sorry for the guy who expects a swimming pool in his yard even though his house is not a hovel. It is interesting to see how some people attract help and others don't.

      Delete
  3. What a lovely image! Looks like it was a beautiful day.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Lines in the landscape are your magnet. When my father was looking for a country town to move to in the mid-50s, Blayney was one that really attracted him. However, it was way cold for both he AND my mother.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coolibah?

Is that a Coolibah tree beside the abandoned house? Every Australian knows about Coolibah trees because the bush ballad Waltzing Matilda is nigh on our unoffical national anthem but most of us live nowhere near the inland where they grow. Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, Under the shade of a Coolibah tree, And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled, You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me. Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda, You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me, And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled You'll come a Waltzing Matilda with me.

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.

Brown streams and soft dim skies

I gave my husband a thick book on the history of Australian Art for Christmas. It documents just how long it took the artists to paint what they actually saw -- at the hands of early artists our wild Australian landscapes looked like rolling green English countryside. Today's photo has "that look" so I have referenced words from the poem describing England. It was Christmas Eve. We were camped by the Tumut River in the Snowy Mountains of NSW. A shady spot planted with exotic trees from the "old world" and with the soft burble of a swiftly flowing stream. Bliss after a hot afternoon drive. But the old world dies slowly, a hot roast for Christmas dinner followed by plum pudding is one of those traditions that just won't die. Knowing we were going to be on the move on Christmas Day we settled for having our traditional hot meal on Christmas Eve this year.