a recollection

You can see the Black Mountains from Hereford, or at least from part of it. When all three of us were little and staying down there with our paternal grandparents, we would often walk up to a park that overlooked the city and which had good views of the surrounding countryside. Nan would sometimes point out that the range of hills – distant and faint but still quite imposing – to the west were the Black Mountains and that she had grown up on the other side of them long ago. The name sounded interesting and the view was pretty, and so I remembered.

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