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Jan Ruth

Words from the Welsh Hills

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Mum and Dad's wedding day 1946.

The treatment room at the old miners hospital #Llanberis

Riding home through the tiny village of Capelulo after a thrilling ride across Foel Lus in the dusk of a December afternoon...

Through the window, a scrubby patch of vegetable garden ran up to a barn, and then the crumbling stone wall which formed a rough circumference around the entire plot, gradually dispersed onto the open Carneddau. A predatory bird hovered and swooped, and hundreds of crows took flight. It looked impossibly bleak, and yet breathtaking in a way she couldn’t clearly define. Maybe it was the overwhelming proximity of life and death. There was certainly a strong resonance with her childhood, and Laura could almost taste the bitter wind and feel the pitiful cries of the ewes lambing in the spring snow. It took her back to a place she thought she’d dealt with, but the evocative mix of distant memories and Enid’s isolation – both in a physical and emotional sense – tugged at something buried in her subconscious.

The Old Church

Me and My Shadow