Walked the dog this morning, up the railway lines, the birds were going off their heads with "that time of year" songs... Plus the French frogs that have invaded the levels were singing for mates....Noises that you would only usually hear if you had a synth, and then a cuckoo cuts in for the usual four cuckoos and then the wait for an answer from a mate....Everytime i walk this route i think of Matty collecting sounds and how i never got to take him up there with the minidisc, (we were always too busy to make it a date)but everyday is different and everyday i've lost it because he's not here...It's in my memory tho' and thats what is important, but i wish Matt was here to share in the colouration of the sounds...It's sort of like the absence of sound tha you get when the sparrows fly overhead, just the change in pressure from their wingbeats, a feeling of someone being there, just out of reach, who you want to touch, so much so, so, so much... And knowing that the letting go is the first part of the love you feel, the freedom to fly, free to the direction they need to take, wherever that is, and wherever that may end up...Love you Mate, life will be emptier without you, but so much fuller than it would ever have been had i not known you.....HugsDad