We went out to Creswick last Wednesday, a beautiful cold, misty day.
Woodsmoke from the chimneys of many little cottages along the Clunes Road scented the air.
We stopped off at the cemetery first.
Where the Cemetery Trust (and in the country that generally means volunteers) keep things shipshape and welcoming for visitors.
The dead lie in the appropriate street, and social niceties are observed in death as in life,
And the living console the dead.
Then off back to town, stopping at the best milkbar in the district for lollies
You can get pies, milk, plants, papers and entertainment here and you can post your letters.
Outside is a magnificent tree I've admired since I first saw it. The native bush in Creswick was savaged in the goldrush and later a lot of land (not all) was replanted with pines and exotics for forestry, so this tree is special.
We walked through Calembeen Park, the site of the former Chinese camp on the Black Lead, now a spring-fed swimming pool and recreation centre.
When we crossed the bridge to the bushland area