Sweet Wayfaring

Not all of the buildings in Sofala are falling apart. The hotel is still going strong. Photo: Sofala Royal Hotel Musing: Friday Night at the Royal Station Hotel by Phillip Larkin "Light spreads darkly downwards from the high Clusters of lights over empty chairs That face each other, coloured differently. Through open doors, the dining-room declares A larger loneliness of knives and glass And silence laid like carpet. A porter reads An unsold evening paper. Hours pass, And all the salesmen have gone back to Leeds, Leaving full ashtrays in the Conference Room. In shoeless corridors, the lights burn. How Isolated, like a fort, it is - The headed paper, made for writing home (If home existed) letters of exile: Now Night comes on. Waves fold behind villages. "

Sofala has been a popular spot for artists for many years. Russell Drysdale painted the main street , which looks somewhat different today. Photo: Main Street Sofala

Photo: Main street, Sofala Grocery shopping isn't what it used to be in Sofala. Nor what it used to be in Brisbane according to a recent post by bitingmidge . I also remember the "Cash and Carry" which was so much more sophisticated than Mr Symes General Store or the shop down the road that had a petrol pump like the one in today's picture.

Photo: Sofala

Yeh. I love it. Photo: Old buggy wheel, Hill End Museum Musing: From Country Towns by Kenneth Slessor "Verandas baked with musky sleep, Mulberry faces dozing deep, And dogs that lick the sunlight up Like paste of gold – or, roused in vain By far, mysterious buggy-wheels, Lower their ears, and drowse again...."

Photo: Old House, Hill End Musing: From House That Was by Laurence Binyon "Of the old house, only a few crumbled Courses of brick, smothered in nettle and dock, Or a squared stone, lying mossy where it tumbled! Sprawling bramble and saucy thistle mock What once was firelit floor and private charm Where, seen in a windowed picture, hills were fading At dusk, and all was memory-coloured and warm, And voices talked, secure from the wind's invading."

The historic town of Hill End has a museum and quite a lot of well preserved cottages. This rainwater tank was on one of them. Rainwater tanks are of course a very old fashioned country-style type of thing which are now very in vogue in the city as an answer to water restrictions during drought. Photo: Rainwater Tank, Hill End Musing: Rainwater Tank by Les Murray "Empty rings when tapped give tongue, rings that are tense with water talk: as he sounds them, ring by rung, Joe Mitchell's reddened knuckles walk. The cattledog's head sinks down a notch and another notch, beside the tank, and Mitchell's boy, with an old jack-plane lifts moustaches from a plank. From the puddle that the tank has dripped hens peck glimmerings and uptilt their heads to shape the quickness down; petunias live on what gets spilt. The tankstand spider adds a spittle thread to her portrait of her soul. Pencil-gray and stacked like shillings out of a banker's paper roll stands the tank, roof-w...

It has been so busy at work I ended up wayfaring in Sydney for the past two weeks rather than commuting from the mountains each day. The lands beyond the mountains are a mere memory at the moment so I've loaded up the wallpaper on my computer with this pic taken in more lanquid times. The 60 km Bridle Track runs from Duramana, northwest of Bathurst, to the old mining town of Hill End. It's a picturesque drive beside the Macquarie River. I will show you some more shots from this area while I take time to catch my breath and go visit some new places. Musing: As I usually have poems here I thought you might find this collection of John Donne wallpapers interesting.