Skip to main content

You know you are ... (6)

You know you are in the country when there's a windmill in your street.


  1. I like this sort of structure much better than the wind farm style.

  2. I like the composition of this frame - windmill on the right and the line of powerpoles that carries the view away (aarrgh, my English is failing me).

    I think I would be able to find everything in Germany you showed this far: tyres (Hi, Julie ;-)), swans made out of tyres, sheds, hollyhocks, even perhaps the one or other "dunny" (?) - but not this kind of windmill. Reminds me of watching "Flying Doctors" some twenty years ago.
    We got many of the wind farms Julie mentioned.

  3. Which town are we in?
    (wish I had a windmill in my street)

  4. Your German probably beats mine hands down, Martina! For a non-native your English is wonderful.

    I am astounded that you can find all these strange little things in Germany, too. I always think of them as typical Australian quirks.

    The world is a relatively small place ...

  5. So interesting to discover from both Martina's and PJ's comments during the series that these quirky country things are seen just about anywhere in the world.

    We are walking in Molong but the series goes driving from tomorrow.


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog


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.