Birdsong, Ashtead, UK in Winter 2017 – by Eleanor McDowall

“I recorded this one of the last times you were sick. I’d spent the evening at your house, my bedroom door ajar to listen for you in the night. You hadn’t wanted a fuss, ‘it’s for work’, I said. ‘I need to record some birdsong and it just sounds better where you are.’ We both pretended this was true. As the sun rose, I stood outside in bare feet on the dew-damp ground and listened to the birds sing while you slept.”