Back in the 70s I had a friend called Howard, who lived in Wimbledon village, and we met regularly to listen to and discuss our recent album purchases. I know, it seems crazy now; but that was part of the magic of those days: more interaction, less distraction, a sense of joy everytime you walked down the street. We boomers had it good.
One of the albums we talked about was Harold Budd's The Pavilion of Dreams. We both had a copy and we both loved it. I still do, and still listen to it regularly. I haven't, however, heard from Howard in years and now I wonder actually if he's still with us. Harold Budd isn't. Budd died recently in California from covid-19 related complications. Go in peace.