Jar Of Flies

I remember walking up the hill behind my house in the autumn rain, listening to Nutshell by Alice in Chains, shortly after my granny had died. There’s something about that particular memory that has stayed with me. I can’t remember exactly what I was thinking about, or even where I was going, but I remember how it felt. It’s strange how certain songs become attached to particular moments in your life. Years later, you can hear just a few seconds of one and find yourself walking up that same hill again, in the same autumn rain.