Sweet Wayfaring

Back to thoughts of old England with the Rose Gardens at Cowra in the central west of NSW. Cowra is more particularly known for its Japanese Garden. Cowra was the site of a POW camp during World War II. The Japanese inmates staged a mass suicide breakout where some hundreds were killed. In 1960 the Japanese Government were considering the repatriation of their war dead to Japan, however they were so impressed with the way the local people managed the graves they decided to bring all their war dead from other parts of Australia to be re-buried at Cowra. The building of a beautiful Japanese Garden came about as a direct extension of the cemetery. It is closed on Christmas Day so no pictures this time.

I took this photo near the Lion of Waterloo hotel. I noticed these trees, each with a beautiful burden of flower, all over Wellington. I don't remember ever seeing this type of tree before. Musing: From Villanelle of Spring Bells by Keith Douglas "All evil men intent on evil thing falter, for in their cold unready ears bells in the town alight with spring make clear the fresh and ancient sound they sing."

Last weekend was a long weekend and we went wayfaring again at last! It was off west to Wellington where we had so much enjoyed the June long weekend. The weather was mostly fine, the grass was verdantly green after recent rain and there was an explosion of spring blossom in the gardens. Musing: By Emily Dickinson "A little madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King, But God be with the Clown — Who ponders this tremendous scene — This whole Experiment of Green — As if it were his own!"

Here's one last shot of the glorious golden trees before moving on from Mount Wilson. Today is Whitsunday (and Mother's Day). Musing: From The Whitsun Weddings by Philip Larkin "The fathers with broad belts under their suits And seamy foreheads; mothers loud and fat; An uncle shouting smut; and then the perms, The nylon gloves and jewelry-substitutes, The lemons, mauves, and olive-ochers that Marked off the girls unreally from the rest. Yes, from cafes And banquet-halls up yards, and bunting-dressed Coach-party annexes, the wedding-days Were coming to an end. All down the line Fresh couples climbed abroad: the rest stood round; The last confetti and advice were thrown, And, as we moved, each face seemed to define Just what it saw departing: children frowned At something dull; fathers had never known Success so huge and wholly farcical; The women shared The secret like a happy funeral; While girls, gripping their handbags tighter, stared At a religious wounding."

Church Lane, Mount Wilson

With Autumn now at its glorious best we took a trip to Mount Wilson which is little pocket of beauty on the far side of the Blue Mountains. Blessed with volcanic soil and good rainfall this lovely village is home to many mature and grand gardens.

With all the visitors I am not getting much Wayfaring done at the moment so will explore a little more of Sydney before moving onto new places. The Botanical Gardens have a spectacular location by the sparkling habour, right where the great city of Sydney started. Photo: Sculptural detail, Botanical Gardens, Sydney Musing: From Flower Poem by A.D. Hope "Not this cut flower but the entire plant Achieves its miracle from soil and wind, Rooted in dung, dirt,dead men's bones; the scent And glory not in themselves an end; the end: Fresh seeding in some other dirty mind, The ache of its mysterious event"

Daisies -- a reminder of sweet simpliciy and innocence. Photo: Daisies, Oberon Musing From a classic Christian hymn by Charles Wesley "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child; Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to Thee. Lord, I would be as Thou art; Give me Thine obedient heart; Thou art pitiful and kind, Let me have Thy loving mind."

You know you are in the country when you can get a picture of a disused dunny, wooden wagon wheel, cement wash tubs and 44 gallon drum sprayed with bullet holes all in the one shot without setting it up. mmmm ... I am still a country girl at heart. Photo: Backyard, Burraga Musing: From Homesickness by Yu Guangzhong, a renowned writer from Taiwan. "In my childhood, Homesickness was a small stamp, I was here, and my mother was over there; When I grew up, Homesickness was a small tomb, With me outside, and my mother inside; But now, Homesickness is a shallow strait, I am on this side, and the mainland is on the other side."

Hibiscus is the quintessential flower of places warm, humid and holiday – conjuring up the twang of island music on the sea breeze. Photo: Hibiscus flower, Gerroa

Trimmed lawns, roses growing in profusion by neat fences, dahlias staked and tied. People who smile hello just because you are there. Quiet streets to meander without looking for cars. I am surprised there is no sign at the gateway to Oberon bragging “Tidy Town Winner”. Musing: From A Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns "O my Luve's like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June; O my Luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry:"