Up Brandon Hill!

In a city of hills, one in particular stands out. Today Brandon Hill is a leafy, peaceful, city centre park, but over the course of more than 900 years, it has been the site of political protest, feasts, riots, celebrations, farewells, gun emplacements, hermits’ chapels and public clothes washing.

On the listening ridge

I’m back. It’s been a while. The woods behind my parents’ house on Tickenham Ridge haven’t changed hugely in the last few months – the seasons have cycled through and for now the hill is a shining riot of green in a dozen shades.

An hour earlier I was in these woods in company with my two boys, my sister, brother-in-law, two nephews and my Dad, but this time I am alone and things feel different.