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On the road again

We went away again this weekend.  Through the same country as our last trip but a little further to the west then swinging back through Mudgee and our block at Clandulla before returning home to the mountains.  The season is at the cusp of change with the sheen of spring green beginning to peep through the winter brown.


  1. Lovely pastoral scene and yes! good to see that shimmer of green - the seasons are a changin!

  2. I, too, enjoy picking up on the changing seasons.
    You've captured it here - a lovely peaceful scene.

  3. No wonder you keep going out there the country scenery is so restful.

  4. Diane, I'd love to be going further afield but my work at the moment only gives me weekends, I do find it restful to get out into the open country. In the city it is all buildings and in the mountains all trees.

    I find it very interesting to watch the change of seasons closely. This is the first year I have gone out this way frequently enough to notice the subtle changes.

  5. Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.


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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.

But then the grey clouds gather

Mostly there was sunshine but sometimes rain. The long drought is still too close a memory for us to not welcome rain even on holiday. We are still at Shellharbour here, you can see the steelworks at Port Kembla in the distance. Musing: From The Storm by Theodore Roethke "Along the sea-wall, a steady sloshing of the swell, The waves not yet high, but even, Coming closer and closer upon each other; A fine fume of rain driving in from the sea, Riddling the sand, like a wide spray of buckshot, The wind from the sea and the wind from the mountain contending, Flicking the foam from the whitecaps straight upward into the darkness."