Coming Home

Leaving the idyllic garden was not easy but without coats simply not smart to stay out too long. Pond reflections snapped through the camera's lens had to suffice on this occasion. From Mudgee we had decided to try an alternative route. We had rediscovered a road that we had previously avoided, believing it to be unsealed for 37 kilometres. Exiting the town we listened to and dutifully responded to Ms Navman's route instructions except when she kept insisting that we make a U turn as soon as possible. She often has bouts of mistrust in her own sat nav directions. That issue ignored we continued along the road out of town when we spied an old church in the paddock to our right. Whilst it appeared to be abandoned it was in remarkable condition. A weed ridden drive led us to the cemetery adjacent to the church. The weathered tombstones with sad listings of infant's dates of birth and death chiseled into the rock reminded us of the harshness of life for the early Australians. Yet another more recent grave was marked by humble mounds of locally gathered and stacked rocks. The church itself was cited as a gift to the community by a gentleman unknown to us, for we knew nothing of Mudgee's history. The architecture seemed to be a mix of styles - some terracotta and beautiful sandstone. Stained glass windows dominated each wall but as entry was not possible part of their inner beauty was lost to us. The journey home was relaxed and we saw amazingly tall, rusty brown coloured, rock cliffs along the way. Large rock slips dotted the roadside for many kilometres with many more yet to fall. The distant cliffs beckoned us to follow the road from it greatest heights to the valley floor. Sometimes winter ills and chills can be most rewarding in most unexpected ways.