Saturday, July 18, 2015

Blake RIIP

It was July 15th, I was on the deck, my eyes perusing the tundra like lands meandering along our coast.  The ocean was peaceful, the usual continuous dull roar now silent save for an occasional wave splashing against the rocks.  I had no sooner closed my eyes and lifted my face to the warm sun when the moment of peace was shattered by a little tell tale thud.  A male Goldfinch, its bright yellow plumage and black cap making it easy to identify lay perfectly still in my garden.   
A common saying is that when a bird hits the window someone you know will soon die.  I have always thought this to be superstition, butt with all that I've come to know today... I'm not so sure anymore.  
 Birding Sites of Nova Scotia

The phone call came the next day, our bird watcher/author friend, Blake, had just passed away.

Less than 3 weeks before, Blake had invited Cathy and I  for some of his home made wine and we had a wonderful evening sharing travel stories both pleasant and nightmarish!!  Blake was full of life...our age (late 50's)... so how could this be?!   He went in the hospital after becoming so weak he couldn't walk. The prognosis wasn't good.  Cathy and I went to visit, he had regained strength and we had a wonderful time... he was hopeful and so were we, and then the following week things turned for the worst.  Blake died of an aggressive form of cancer.

Note the etymology of his name:
Blake: From a surname which was derived from Old English blæc "black" or blāc"pale". A famous bearer of the surname was the poet and artist William Blake (1757-1827).
William Blake wrote a poem entitled "The Birds" :
 He. Where thou dwellest, in what grove,Tell me Fair One, tell me Love;Where thou thy charming nest dost build,O thou pride of every field!She. Yonder stands a lonely tree,There I live and mourn for thee;Morning drinks my silent tear,And evening winds my sorrow bear... 


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