“There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to outcarol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain… Or so says the legend.”                                          Colleen McCullough, The Thornbirds                                           

 I was in college when The Thornbirds was released and I remember the beautiful summer escape it offered. During those years of term papers and cramming for midterms and finals, opportunities for pleasure reading were limited. But oh, how I looked forward to those blissful months of summer break.

Thank you, Colleen McCullough, for introducing me to the epic, character driven novels I so love, the ones I grieve for when the final page has been turned. And now we mourn for you.