Gordon Allison died in his sleep on 6th February after a day in the field, I only just found out and I cannot stop crying. You will be missed Gordo!Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
Gordon birding the Royal Mile at Budongo in the trademark baggy shorts. I first met Gordon whilst working for the RSPB, but it was on a trip to Uganda in 2004 that I really got to know him. He was a great travel companion, good birder and had a wicked sense of humour, but above all he was a lovely guy.
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