Flying the nest

My second-born son has today moved out of home and into a flat in Edinburgh - sharing with a friend from High School (actually they've known each other since nursery!).  Coincidentally, the flat is only a few streets from where his grandfather was born and brought up in the 1940s and 50s. The park above, where my son went for a run this evening, was particularly special to his grandfather as the place where he played as a child. It will be a year come the 13th since his grandfather (and my father) died and my Dad would have been very happy to know that one of his beloved grandsons was treading the streets of his old stomping ground again. I am happy for my son as he moves on to this next exciting stage of city life/new job, but a little sad too as I suspect that he won't live with us again for any length of time. Another one has left the nest ...