Bendigo Mural off a wall for Mural Monday

 

Painted by a well-known cartoonist who wanders the same shopping centre aisles as I do. In a city the size of Bendigo, that is hardly surprising. There is, after all, only one real shopping town—the place where everyone eventually drifts, like leaves circling toward the same quiet eddy.

Under the bright, practical lights of the mall, art and groceries mingle without ceremony. A trolley rattles past a newsagent window; someone pauses over a display of fruit; somewhere nearby, the cartoonist who once filled newspapers with laughter is simply another shopper comparing prices or lingering over a cup of coffee.

And yet it gives the painting a small secret glow. Knowing the hand that made it might also reach for a loaf of bread in the same place you do—might stand in the same queue, glance at the same shop windows—shrinks the distance between art and ordinary life. In a town like Bendigo, creativity does not live in distant studios. It walks the same tiled floors as everyone else, quietly carrying its sketchbook among the shopping bags.

Sony A7RV

FE 50mm f1.2 GM

Linking Mural Monday

Bendigo Penny Weight walk Mural for Mural Monday

 

In the curve of Penny Weight Walk, where Bendigo’s laneways murmur to brick and shadow, she waits.

Crimson and unyielding, her face burns softly against the wall. Eyes closed—not in retreat, but in listening. As if some inward hymn steadies her breath. Sunset lives in her skin; the artist has pressed fire there and left it glowing.

Her neck lifts in a long, ancestral arc. Around her, flowers riot—roses folding into lilies, pale frangipani brushing feverfew—petals and vines circling her stillness like a living crown.

Shoppers pass. Footsteps scatter. Yet a hush gathers in her red silence, fierce and tender at once. She does not open her eyes.

The mural is already awake.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

Goornong Sunrise for Sky watch Friday

 

In earlier years I drove long arterial roads into the rural margins of Victoria, the boot packed with files and instruments, the morning still undecided between frost and light. The work took me through paddocks silvered with dew and towns that woke slowly, bakeries first, then fuel stations, then the school crossings. I learned the discipline of dawn: how it breaks differently over stubble than over pasture, how mist lifts from creek flats in long, patient veils.

On the run north from Bendigo toward the Murray, the highway passes through Goornong—a small settlement set amid broadacre farming country. Its name is commonly traced to an Aboriginal word, often said to refer to mallee fowl, a reminder that this was once a landscape of woodland and grass before wheat and sheep laid their geometry across it. The district gathered itself in the late nineteenth century, when selectors and railway lines stitched the interior to markets; the railway’s arrival in the 1870s helped turn a scattering of holdings into a town with a school, a hall, and the steady rhythms of agricultural life.

By the time I was passing through for clinics, Goornong kept its quiet competence. Silos stood like sentinels against a wide sky. Fences ran straight as ruled lines. In summer the fields browned to parchment; in winter they breathed green again. And always, on the eastbound stretches, the sun would lift without apology—low, fierce, and perfectly aligned with the windscreen. It poured into the car in molten bands, turning the bitumen into a river of light and forcing me to squint behind the visor.

Those drives became a kind of liturgy. The glare was inconvenient, yes, but it was also exacting and honest—an unfiltered sunrise over country that has endured cycles of cultivation and drought, rail and road, departure and return. In that brief corridor between Bendigo and Echuca, the day announced itself without ornament, and I carried its brightness with me into the clinic rooms.

Sony A7RV

FE 70-200mm f2.8 GM

Linking Skywatch Friday

White-naped Honeyeater in Bendigo for Saturday Critter

 

The White-naped Honeyeater is a small, quick-moving woodland bird commonly encountered in central Victorian box-ironbark forests, making Crusoe Reservoir near Bendigo an ideal setting for sightings. Around 13–15 cm long, it shows olive-green upperparts, pale underparts, a neat black cap, and a crisp white band across the nape. In good light, the tiny reddish patch above the eye can be seen as it flicks through the canopy.

At Crusoe Reservoir, the mix of eucalypt woodland, regenerating bushland, and open water edges provides abundant nectar sources and insect life. The bird is often heard before it is seen — a sharp, busy caller moving restlessly among flowering gums and ironbarks. It feeds high in foliage, gleaning insects from leaves and bark while also taking nectar from blossoms common in the Bendigo region, particularly during seasonal flowering cycles.

In this part of Victoria, White-naped Honeyeaters may appear in small foraging parties and sometimes join mixed flocks with other honeyeaters as they move through the forest in response to flowering patterns. Their constant motion and canopy preference mean they can be easily overlooked despite being locally regular.

Within Bendigo’s bush reserves like Crusoe Reservoir, they are part of the characteristic box-ironbark bird community, reflecting the resilience of remnant woodland habitat that still supports nectar-feeding species despite the surrounding urban fringe.

Sony A7RV

FE 200-600mm f5.6-6.3

Linking Saturday Critter

More Bushranger Bay shots for Treasure Tuesday

 

This post continues from Sunday, returning again to Bushrangers Bay at Cape Schanck—a landscape that asks for effort before it gives anything back. The walk itself was a reckoning for our sedentary bodies, every step a reminder of distance, weight, and time. The tide was high, erasing the intricate language of the exposed sea floor, denying us those fleeting revelations of rock pools and marine scars. At high tide the coast becomes uncompromising: corners cannot be navigated, passages close without apology, and the land reminds you that access is always conditional.

From there, the drive inland told a far more unsettling story. Melbourne to Bendigo, through Ravenswood—now spoken of in the past tense after a major bushfire tore through. Natimuk, near Horsham, an old town where I once visited nursing homes, burnt down as if memory itself were expendable. Longwood near Shepparton followed, acres reduced to ash. It felt less like isolated disasters and more like a state collectively alight, one ignition bleeding into the next.

And hovering over it all is the hollow ritual of government response: the loud, performative cry of “total fire ban,” repeated like a broken clock striking the wrong hour. While slogans echo, services are cut. Fire response capacity is thinned. Farmers are left to defend their land, their stock, their homes—often alone—despite paying special fire levies meant to ensure protection. Responsibility is devolved without consent, risk privatized, and accountability dissolved into press conferences.

What burns most fiercely here is not only bush or town, but trust. A government that substitutes warnings for action, bans for preparedness, and rhetoric for resourcing is not governing risk—it is outsourcing survival. And the cost is written plainly across the landscape, in blackened paddocks, erased towns, and the quiet exhaustion of people who were told help existed, only to discover it had been cancelled.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Mount Alexander Post Box for Skywatch Friday

 

A mackerel sky hangs over Mount Alexander, its blue-cyan wash streaked with soft brown, as though the heavens themselves remember the dust and mineral veins that once drew thousands here. The mountain rises with the quiet assurance of an old storyteller, carrying in its ridges the memory of the gold rush that transformed Bendigo and Castlemaine, when hopeful hands sifted soil and the world’s footsteps converged on this corner of Victoria.

Along the roadside, the rustic tin mailboxes stand like humble sentinels—weather-beaten, crooked, and utterly honest. They belong to a landscape where history is not polished but lived in, where every dent and patch of rust feels like a faint echo of the pickaxes, tents, and fevered dreams that once pressed into this earth. And as the sky ripples overhead, Mount Alexander feels close—not just in distance from your home, but in spirit, a familiar presence holding centuries of stories beneath its quiet, enduring form.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Skywatch Friday

Regent Honeyeater spotted at Crusoe Reserve, Bendigo for Saturday Critter

 

This bird is the Regent Honeyeater (Anthochaera phrygia), a critically endangered species native to south-eastern Australia. Distinguished by its striking black-and-yellow plumage, the distinctive warty skin about the eyes, and a strong, curved bill adapted for feeding on nectar, the Regent Honeyeater is one of the nation’s most imperilled birds. Its numbers have diminished drastically in recent decades, largely as a consequence of habitat loss and the fragmentation of the eucalypt woodlands upon which it depends.

During the period of pandemic restrictions, I took to visiting the Crusoe Reservoir daily as a means of physical exercise and quiet reflection. Situated near Kangaroo Flat on the outskirts of Bendigo, Victoria, the reservoir was constructed in the 1860s to supply water for gold mining and township use. Today, it forms part of the Greater Bendigo National Park and serves as a place of both recreation and environmental significance. Encircled by walking trails and woodlands rich in birdlife, it provides a refuge for native flora and fauna, as well as a glimpse into the region’s goldfields heritage. My regular walks there afforded me not only the benefits of fresh air and exercise, but also the chance to observe the delicate balance of nature in a landscape that has long borne the marks of human history.

Pentax K10D

FA 300mm f2.8 

Linking Saturday Critter

Maldon Milkyway sky for Sunday Best

 

Maldon, situated not far from Bendigo, which I often regard as my second home, is a town of vintage charm and historic resonance. By night, the township lies beneath a deep and pervasive darkness, its obscurity relieved only by the faint glow of a few tungsten lamps in the town centre. These lights, though serviceable to the passer-by, are oft resented by photographers, for the colour cast of tungsten is notoriously harsh and unflattering to the delicate sensitivity of the modern camera sensor.

In my own practice of nocturnal photography, I have adopted a particular method of image refinement. For it is a truth, seldom appreciated outside the circles of those who employ a star tracker, that the core of the Milky Way is ablaze with natural hues—crimson, gold, and azure—wrought by the very physics of interstellar gas and dust. Without such aid, these colours often appear subdued, but with patience and careful editing they may yet be revealed in their original splendour.

The town of Maldon itself bears a history no less luminous than the heavens above it. Proclaimed in 1853 amidst the tumult of the Victorian gold rush, Maldon swiftly prospered as miners from near and far sought their fortunes in its quartz reefs. By the mid-nineteenth century, the town was adorned with banks, churches, and fine public houses, their stout masonry and wrought-iron embellishments testifying to both wealth and permanence. Unlike many goldfield settlements that withered when their veins were exhausted, Maldon endured, and in later years became renowned as Australia’s first “notable town” formally classified by the National Trust in 1966, a recognition of its remarkably preserved streetscape of Victorian architecture.

Thus, Maldon is at once a relic of human endeavour and ambition, and a stage upon which the eternal drama of the cosmos may be observed. Its dimly lit lanes, untroubled by the clamour of modern neon, afford the night sky a rare purity—an inheritance both from its miners of old, and from the silence of the stars that wheel above.

Sony A7RV

FE 16-35mm f2.8 GM

Linking Sunday Best

Turpin Waterfall, Bendigo for Water H20 Thursday

 

Turpin Falls, not far from Bendigo, remains etched in my memory as one of those rare discoveries that seem almost too wondrous to share. I visited the falls some four years ago, and though I cannot recall quite how I came upon the exact vantage point that day, I remember well the sense of awe as the basalt cliffs opened before me and the water poured in a silver sheet into the deep pool below. The cliffs themselves tell of a distant volcanic age, their dark basalt columns rising like the walls of some vast natural cathedral, while the surrounding country speaks of long habitation by the Dja Dja Wurrung people, for whom this landscape has always held meaning. For over a century, the falls have drawn summer visitors, who would climb down to the base for swimming and relief from the heat, their laughter echoing against the stone. Yet such visits belong now to memory, for the track to the base has been permanently closed, both to preserve the fragile environment and to ensure safety upon those treacherous rocks. In a sense, this loss lends a heightened value to my recollection: a private moment of communion with the wild spirit of the place, both a traveller’s fleeting encounter and a glimpse into the deep natural and cultural heritage of Turpin Falls.

Sony A7RV

FE 70-200mm f2.8 GM

Check oout Water H2O Thursday

Martin Place Signs in Sydney for Sign2

 

Martin Place in Sydney is a most agreeable promenade, a thoroughfare distinguished alike by its elegance and its historical resonance. Established in the latter part of the nineteenth century, Martin Place was originally conceived as a civic square adjoining the General Post Office, and over time it has become both the ceremonial heart and the financial centre of Sydney. Lined with imposing sandstone edifices in the classical style, it has witnessed countless public gatherings, from patriotic assemblies during the Great War to the sombre commemorations of Anzac Day and the more recent memorials of national grief. Today, amidst its bustling offices, cafés, and the ever-present signs that guide the pedestrian, it remains a place where history and modernity intermingle.

Over the past weekend, I found myself obliged to return to Bendigo, for there were pressing matters awaiting my attention. Several referrals required immediate consideration, and so I undertook the journey back to that regional city in order to attend personally to the urgent cases, ensuring that no delay should impede the care of those entrusted to me.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Sign2

Nullawil Silo Art, Victoria Australia for Mural Monday

 

The Nullawil Silo Art, located in the small rural town of Nullawil in Victoria, is part of the renowned Australian Silo Art Trail. Completed in July 2019 by street artist Smug (Sam Bates), the mural features a striking and realistic depiction of a farmer and his working kelpie dog. The artwork celebrates the strong bond between rural Australians and their working dogs, symbolizing themes of resilience, community, and country life.

Painted on a disused grain silo, the mural has become a cultural and tourist landmark, drawing visitors to the otherwise quiet town. It reflects both artistic excellence and the spirit of regional Australia, contributing to the growing movement of turning industrial structures into large-scale public art. The Nullawil silo is praised for its incredible detail, lifelike quality, and emotional warmth.

Sony A7RV

FE 20-70mm f4 G

Linking Mural Monday

Upon returning home to Bendigo, I discovered that a fuse in the motherboard had likely blown. The house, being quite old, has required increasingly frequent maintenance, and the costs have begun to accumulate significantly over the years. It seems that last month’s wages will once again be consumed by repairs. Small wonder, then, that so many around us have resigned themselves to merely “lying flat,” doing only the bare minimum to keep the machine of life running.

Abandoned Old Gillies Pie Factory in Bendigo, Victoria, Australia for Treasure Tuesday

 

The Old Gillies Pie Factory in Bendigo, Victoria, stands as a testament to the city's rich industrial and culinary heritage. Established in the mid-20th century, this factory was once the heart of a thriving pie-making enterprise that left an indelible mark on the local community.

Origins and Growth

The Gillies Pies brand was founded by three brothers—Les, Alan, and Norm Gillies—who relocated from Charlton to Bendigo following the 1940s drought. They began their venture with a modest bakery on Mitchell Street, gradually expanding their operations to meet the growing demand for their delectable pies. In 1958, the brothers acquired the Black Swan Hotel building, transforming it into a mass production facility. This site would later become known as the Old Gillies Pie Factory.

Community Impact

The factory wasn't just a production site; it became a local institution. The "pie window" at Gillies Corner, their second shop, often saw queues of eager customers winding down the street, drawn by the irresistible aroma of freshly baked pies. At its peak, Gillies Pies employed around 200 people, with retail outlets spreading across Victoria and distribution reaching as far as Melbourne.

Decline and Closure

Despite its success, the company faced challenges in the latter part of the 20th century. Operations eventually ceased, and the factory fell into disrepair, becoming a canvas for graffiti and a spot for urban explorers. In 2016, the last link to the iconic brand was severed when the remaining factory operations in Bendigo were shut down, marking the end of an era.

Preservation Efforts

In recent years, there have been efforts to preserve the legacy of the Old Gillies Pie Factory. Local history enthusiasts have lobbied for the site's restoration, aiming to maintain its "naturally decrepit" state as a nod to its historical significance. These endeavors highlight the community's desire to honour and remember the factory's role in Bendigo's history.

Sony A7RV

Laowa 9mm f5.6

Linking Treasure Tuesday

More Murals from Melbourne CBD for Mural Monday

 

The upcoming three days will be exceedingly busy for me, as I have to travel extensively for work across regional Victoria. I thoroughly enjoyed my self-imposed break during the Lunar New Year. Joel has informed me that Sony is set to release the Sony A7RVI, which features a new sensor capable of encoding 100MB for photos. The cost will undoubtedly be significant, so we should start saving.

Furthermore, my house in Bendigo requires substantial work, estimated to cost up to 20,000 AUD. Additionally, my mother's house will necessitate the installation of a new solar battery, which is projected to add approximately 45,000 AUD to the expenses. This situation is becoming increasingly burdensome.

Sony A7RV

FE 35mm f1.4 GM

Linking Mural Monday

Dredge and Dragline for Sunday Best

 

I reside in the vicinity of Maldon, a mere half-hour's journey from Bendigo. The dredge and dragline in Maldon stand as relics of the golden age of mining. Over the years, I have captured this locale through my lens on numerous occasions. Occasionally, I am seized by a longing to document rustic machinery. Joel, however, has never shown an interest in these pursuits, thus I often embark on these solitary explorations. Perhaps, my many years of practicing geriatrics in this region have endeared it to me.

Linking Sunday Best

Lake Weeroona Bendigo for Water H2O Thursday

 

The colour is nice around where I live

Sony A7RV

FE 24mm f1.4 GM

Linking H2O Thursday

Miss Batterham Bendigo for Treasure Tuesday

 

Cold winter in Bendigo increases my appetite

The place offers tasting menu less than 500 metres from where I live. A french set for 75 AUD. Not bad. It comes with free house Redwine pinot 

Sony A7RV

FE 35mm f1.4 GM

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Last few weekends have been plagued by torrential rain and rather cold temperature. Finally Joel and I were aiming to go to Lego festival in Ascot Vale on Saturday. Then Joel ended up vomiting in his car on the way to the exhibition. So we had to cancel it in the end. He is trying to wean his antidepressant down going through withdrawal

I also heard that a lot of people said they want to make "dent" in universe? What the heck does that mean?

Great Stupa of Universal Compassion Bendigo for Skywatch Friday

 

This is spherical panorama looking sleek in the magic hour

DJ Mini Pro4

Linking Sky watch Friday

I always envy TV Rom Com where the main cast family members are always decent human beings. The relatives I encounter always treat me like a bank account. 

Lake Weeroona Bendigo for Water H2O Thursday

 

I have been busy in the past fortnight. I will be very busy until next Sunday going overseas. Trying to clean up my referrals before leaving the country.

Sony A7RV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Linking Water H2O Thursday

Off View Street, Bendigo for Treasure Tuesday

 

The peeling paint seems to appeal to the current generations. 

Sony A7RV

FE 14mm f1.8 GM

Linking Treasure Tuesday

Mural Art at Penny Weight Walk in Bendigo for Mural Monday

 

Very long neck lady. 

Panasonic G9

Leica 15mm f1.8 

Linking Mural Monday