Hello, Rachel. There's always something so evocative about your reads, a lot like your loops that reminds me of mother's birds: I've always been able to go outside and hear them all converse, and in the same pitch and trying to reproduce the sounds with words I'd keep up the conversation, especially with the Mocking Birds, and it's gotten to where even now, whenever i go outside, we just jump right back into these sing-song conversations. Of course it doesn't come anywhere never to her because she'd be on her hands and knees, playing in her flowers the females would hop on the ground on her hands, on her head and shoulders, feather their nests with her hair, and the hummingbirds would hover in front of her face almost squeeking flitting, flitting, flitting, not 6 inches away, and even though they don't do the same with me, they're right there doing the same thing, saying hey, and between them and creekbeds, your voice and it's melody has the same enchanting, captivating effect, drawing me in like RIP VAN WINKLE, and then i have to listen to it again at least 2 or 3 times more so I can actually hear all the words. And you know I love your accent... Always my best, with highest regards, Stephen P.s. it always reminds me of one those enchanted balls in fairy tales....

The only time it's too late to say something is when one has passed on and that reminds me of Cyrano de Bergerac where he finally tells Roxane the truth about her letters, and then these two finally reveal their love for each other. Now that's sad. Thanks, Rachel, always a treat and well worth the wait. My best, with highest regards, Stephen