The garden is awash with flowering trees, plants and vines. The old plum trees, those that have survived the bamboo nightmare of recent memory, have delicate white blossoms, tinged with pink. Those of the pear tree are hinted with a yellow, matching a dazzling potato vine of a similar hue on the front fence.

So, spring has arrived with full force, though today is actually quite cold. The sun is warm, but a southerly breeze harkens back to early August and the last of the combustion stove fires. There is a lot of sneezing about too. I suspect hay fever sufferers will suffer, for the pollen count is high.

What else can I say? Our parish priest, Father Joe, is moving to a new parish in North West Sydney - though I think reluctantly - and we await news of who the bishop will appoint in his place. I was sad when I first heard, for Father Joe was there at my faith formation classes and presided over my confirmation. He had been a encouragement and a rock since I began attending St Finbars over two years ago.

May God bless him in this new endeavour.