In the middle of the paddock stands a Moreton Bay Fig tree. I have been fascinated with this tree ever since my first visit to the Abbey. The tree is magnificent, larger than the trees in the park behind my childhood home, bigger I suspect than the trees in the Royal Botanical Gardens in the city.

Everytime I see it, I gaze in wonder. The tree seems to have a presence of their own. What wisdom could it hold after keeping watch for hundreds of years?