As the academic year draws to a close, the last few days of Trinity term seem to be slipping away like water. The transience of life in Oxford is one of the city’s beauties and tragedies: friendships formed in such circumstances, in the knowledge that the companionship that formed them is time-limited, are all the more intense and tender. With many students preparing to leave the city – for the summer, or with the end of their degrees – it’s almost possible to smell the pre-emptive nostalgia. For those who leave, any return to Oxford will likely be a confusion of emotions: much will have changed, the churn of students will mean that the city will be in the possession of other young people, but the bones and stones of the city will be the same.

One of my favourite novels of all time is Gaudy Night, by Dorothy L. Sayers, a mystery novel set in Oxford. Among its many typically Oxonian scenes (including a University Sermon at St Mary’s!), is one charged with this particular feeling. The two central characters take a punt out together. Pondering on what has changed in their lives since they were each, respectively, students, they reflect that some experiences (like feeding ducks on the remains of a picnic while in a punt) are unchanged. This prompts the immortal line, ‘How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks.’

Whether we are preparing to leave Oxford this week, or remaining surrounded by its immutable beauty, we all live in uncertain and changing times. The very permanence of Oxford and its institutions can even feel oppressive in such circumstances, as we seek to engage with the turmoil of the world around us. At these times, we do well to remember this gentle prayer appointed for the Night Office of Compline:

Be present, O merciful God, and protect us through the silent hours of this night, so that we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this fleeting world, may rest upon your eternal changelessness; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.