To Weatherman From your pride at holding the longevity record for ringed Spotted Flycatcher to your regular garden catch of zillions of tits (only outdone by the number of RETRAP tits you caught) your love of birding was clear to see and it was a pleasure to meet and ring with you. Never to be forgotten Jo Lashwood

So many happy memories of Wash times. Discussions on weather, discussions on tornado-chasing, discussions on humming-bird forays. Sometimes this Emily Dickenson poem helps me, though I am not entirely sure what it means; Hope is the thing with feathers. Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all. And sweetest in the gale is heard, And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea, Yet never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Steven. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.