RICHARD’S constant air of gloom might be put down to his having worked in local government. But his time in public sector finance lasted a mere seven years before quitting to follow his dream of becoming a dry stone wall builder. It is fair to say he has always been miserable.

“It’s the last day of September,” he announced on Tuesday. “That’s goodbye to good weather for months.”

I peered skywards. The orb was still there. The weatherman hadn’t forecast an instant freeze or deluge. Perhaps a reassuring hand on the shoulder was called for – but my worst self intervened and I called him a miserable old something or other.

IT didn’t take long to show there was still much joy in being alive. Hamza is 30 and recently arrived from Libya. He was in Bonn Square surrounded – and partly covered – by pigeons. A morsel of food was enough to keep them interested; the scene also attracted many young and old featherless spectators. Oxford had a new Birdman.

Hamza had his share of difficulties back in the Middle East, but this hasn’t diminished his love of nature and of life in general.

BUT the view across Queen Street was another matter. The large and imposing BHS store has been doomed to close for months. The need to clear much reduced stock would seem to be the sole reason for not putting up the shutters.

Would the fish and chips of happy memory be as tasty as ever in the upstairs restaurant? Would the restaurant still be open?

It was – although dull and painfully short of customers. However, the welcome from bright-eyed Tasmin on the till was as warm as ever. The fish and chips also lived up to their reputation.

‘JOIN us in our photo,” said a pretty teenager from France. My protest was hollow and I was delighted to be surrounded by a dozen young people outside the Sheldonian Theatre, all enjoying the sunshine. Pictures taken, a handshake and a peck on the cheek from one of the women confirmed that God (and the sun) were in the heavens and all was right with the world – at least in our corner of it.

SUDDENLY Richard reappeared. “I’ve been looking for you. Here’s a present,” he said. It was a calendar for 2015, on sale for the first time this week in the Westgate Centre. What’s more it was the official calendar of the never-to-be-forgotten Audrey Hepburn. Richard knows my tastes.

Before I could say a word of thanks, he justified his premature generosity.

“You never know what’s round the corner so you might as well have it while you’re still breathing.”

Thoughtful – yes. True to form – certainly.