I spent quite a bit of time in my childhood staying with Uncle John and Auntie Irene in Yorkshire, having fun with my cousins Sue and Mandy.  Uncle John was often working but when he was free he would take us out in the country.  He was a big Geordie, afraid of nothing, with a great sense of humour.   I will always remember walking on the moors with Uncle John, him singing old songs and getting us to do roundels; his big deep voice would echo across the moors, with us piping like sparrows around him.  He made me laugh so much, and taught me to appreciate the rugged beauty of nature, not just softly pretty things.  Whenever I go out on heather moors, or hills of gorse, I can hear his voice still.