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I spotted these emus on the pub at Hebel.  We saw quite a few real emus out in the paddocks and I have one more to show you tomorrow as we are leaving Lightning Ridge.


  1. This image is a bit confoosing for my poor brain. Is any of that blue actual-sky?

  2. what interesting characters ... I'm sure you'll see many of the real - deal emus before your travels are through.

  3. I've just been looking around google maps at Hebel (which I have never heard of) - I didn't realize Lightning Ridge was up so high. I think I thought it was out near Broken Hill!

    1. The opal fields out near Broken Hill are White Cliffs. I hadn't really thought about Lightning Ridge but there was a sign on the highway to Mudgee saying it was only 6 hours drive away and that got me thinking of going there one day. That sign isn't there any more.

  4. What an awesome painting/mural. Love it!

    1. It is lovely though on a very unassuming building. See the previous post for the full picture of the pub.


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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.