I'm watching the Memorial Service from the Sydney Domain. Very moving. Right now there are people coming forward to commemorate those who have died or are still missing. There is a didgeridoo player droning and as they come up, they take an orchid from the pile at the foot of a huge black glazed urn with white pebbles at the bottom and a curl of curly willow (it looks very minimalist and Japanesey), then they pause a moment and then cast their orchid on the water with which the urn is filled.

As more and more people come towards the urn, they are the just ordinary folk from all the nationalities and religions of this country of mine, and in their arms are bouquets of flowers. These they are placing to each side of the urn, and as the officially provided orchids are used up, people are taking a single blossom from their gift and adding to the water. And everywhere you look there is a sprig of wattle, the quintessential flower emblem of this country.

Right now, I am sitting at my computer watching the broadcast ceremony from Sydney, tears of mingled grief and pride sliding down my cheeks, listening to the tributes and stories that have been chosen to represent those who have died, those who survived, and those who volunteered.

I think Australia's response can be summed up in the words of one young survivor when asked about the people who committed this murder that typifies the laconic style of my country, yet doesn't hide the anger at what has been done to us.
He said, "I think they should have a good, long, hard look at themselves."