Caer Caradoc, Shropshire - 28/12/2014 - summit

2014 was an awful year. It was the year my little sister died, in terrible pain, at the age of 35. Christmas was the first time I spent alone with my Mum & Dad after she passed in October.

My Mum and I took my Dad's dog to the summit of Caer Caradoc on this wintery day and she darted around, on the frosty ground, in sheer delight at the crunch and crackle beneath her feet. We met my Dad on the descent and walked along "the wilderness" back home.

The light seemed to promise that 2015 might be better, either that or that Kate (my sister) was now part of the majesty of all nature and was shining on us that day, part of that vital,  surging, electric energy that possessed my Dad's dog when we were at the top. It was a special day.

You can see the summit of Titterstone Clee Hill in the distance; it sits amongst the chain of "blue remembered hills" that Housman wrote about.