Stray Birds

"Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn, which have so songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh."

Rabindranath Tagore
(Poet, writer, playwright, composer, philosopher, social reformer, and painter of the Bengal Renaissance.1861-1941)


December 16th was my father's day of birth. I had a special thought for him when I got up and again when I went to bed. I took out one of the books he found me in a second-hand bookshop many years' ago.  I had asked him to look out for this book after seeing beautiful excerpts and quotations by Tagore in a book I had been reading.


My father was a good man and must have found it challenging to bring up two children of six and twelve (my brother and me) on his own. He told me that he did the best he could - and I know that he did. 


As a parent, we can only ever do our best to instill the true values of life, including compassion and respect for others. My dad was a good teacher.


I love this photo of dad, when he was in his late twenties, with his beloved dog, Bonnie.