We woke this morning to the mourning cry of the curlew - an eerie cry from a small ground living bird. There is something haunting about its sad wailing cry. Like the cry of the dead - a pitiful cry of a soul doomed to eternal damnation in hell.

Nearby a crow sits perched in an eucalpt tree watching with its beady eyes a superstitious shudder runs through me when it spreads its wings and with a long, lazy cawing call it takes flight.

Our Rhodedendums are now in flower

Some of our decidious trees now have a faint colouring of green as their buds begin to burst into leaf. Pink and white flowering cherries are now fully out and are absolutely glorious. Daffodils and crocus nod their heads in the light breeze. Having cut back my rose bushes in July they too are now beginning to shoot into leaf. It really is a wonderful time of year.