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Out at the end of the green car door tour there is a nice wide view of the surrounding countryside.   They say sunsets are good out here but we weren't keen on driving those crazy dirt roads at night after the sun has gone down.  Someone has built a maze out here too.


  1. I wonder how they got the maze so spirally? Would have taken a lot of effort and concentration. There is a labyrinth in Centennial Park now, too.

    I imagine this is used by latte sippers and goat cheese eaters.

    1. As always I love your turn of phrase Julie. I wonder who actually works aroung the labyrinth. I just skipped over the rows to get my photo.

  2. Wow, that spiral is amazing. Is it recent? Or quite old?

    1. I understand that it is quite recent ... like in the past 10 years or so.


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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.


At the Read Heeler bookshop in Echucha their thing is dogs.