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13. Country churches

I've taken lots of lonely little country churches but my all time favourite is this little churck nestled among the pretty weeds -- made of corrugated iron too.


  1. a beautiful capture of this quaint church Joan. I immediately though of the lyrics to the song "Oh! come to the church in the wildwood"

    1. I am not familiar with this song. I see Julie has looked it up.

  2. Diane! I did not realise that your background encompassed hymns!

    Are they thistle flowers, Joan? With your prodigious knowledge of flowers/weeds I would have thought you would have said they were thistles if, indeed, they happen to be thistles. But you didn't, so I guess they aren't. So ... ummm ... what are they?

    1. Not thistles. I would say Verbena bonariens. Commonly called purple top. Not a native plant

  3. So ... I went and listened to this song. First by Dolly Parton, and then by The Carter Family. It is more C&W than hymnal. There is a lot more to DP than hair and torso.

    1. I listened too. Yes c&w. I like c&w but only in small doses.


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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
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Royal Hotel - Ganman

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