There are certain sounds in life that remind me of certain things and are just right for that particular setting. I’m sitting at a campsite overlooking Rutland Water. The sun is shining. It’s warm. Possibly the first day of summer arrived in the spring. I’m in shorts drinking a beer. Sitting back in the chair with my eyes closed I feel the warm sun all over my body and it penetrates my closed eyelids forcing me to squint. I hear the low background hum of the countryside interspersed with bird song. Birds I know by sight but not by call. Every now and again I hear a group of people on the far side of the site laugh and cheer and in the background I hear the low rhythmic thump of someone banging a peg in the ground. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Stop. Move along. Pick the next peg up. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Far away I just catch the swoosh of a cars tyres as it skirts the edge of the wood. High above me, tens of thousands of feet, I see the trail of a jet that I will never hear.