Skip to main content

Windmill Town

Gilgranda's other claim to fame is as the "Windmill Town'.  Back in the 1960s before they had a town water supply each of the houses had to make do with wells and bores.  With the water table averaging 60 feet down they had windmills to pump the water.  Apparently there were over 300 windmills dominating the horizon.

Today they are gone but the memory is celebrated with a walk beside the river lined with a lot of the old windmills.

We enjoyed the walk and saw quite a lot of birds included the lovely green grass parrots that you see out west.  Tomorrow we move on.


  1. I have a soft-spot for windmills. When I was a child, and lived on a farm, a lot of our emotional life was dominated by the current state of the windmill my father erected.

    1. I like then photographically even though they are cliche. I found it interesting about it being a town of windmills. In our town many places including our own had wells from the days before town water mostly to supplement tanks for garden watering. But there were no windmills, the water was right up near the top of the well so we kids were banned from going anywhere near it. I think ours had a petrol driven pump on it. Here in the mountains the neighbours have an old well and we discovered the hole for ours when the earthwork was being done for our extension.

    2. What extensions? Photos pls ...

    3. They were done 10-15 years ago so were in place when you were here. We pretty much rebuilt the whole back of the house.

  2. I've never seen birds that colour before, even out near Alice Springs. Must be a plains bird.

    1. We start to see them at Bathurst and are common all places around that area. We don't see them at Clandulla or out that way so they represent the west to me. The further west we go they seem to disappear and we begin to see Apostle birds


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.