keberoxu, the very first time I took my husband on the train from Edinburgh over the Forth and the Tay bridges to Perthshire to visit my sister, I stupidly told him about the Tay Bridge disaster. If ever a very black man could go white with terror, he definitely came close!

John Masefield's poem Tewkesbury Road was recited to me frequently by my mother when I was about four. I always sobbed at the last line, "...the dear wild cry of the birds". I soon learned it by heart, but it always made me cry (and still does!)