From the age of 12 - 18 my bedroom was the upstairs loft of a barn (stop picturing Little House on the Prarie, the space had been converted into a living environment before we moved in).

It’s roof was made of tin.

One of my favorite things to do was lie in bed and listen to the rain cascading off the roof like a never-ending avalanche of grain from a silo.

Top ten sounds of my adolescence.