Plane to see

2014 was a year full of upheaval; no different from other years in that respect.

But it was the planes, boss, the planes. Channel hopping after the latest disappearance and it was all that was being discussed.

Border skirmishes with Russia are regrettable but not new. Neither is any fnding on North Korea going to make a blind bit of difference. There continue to be ever more jihadist groups propagating, with westerners joining in. Danger comes to our doorstep.

Icons crumble.

Our finest clown succumbs

Art and ambition expand despite austerity

Music and movies were the dependable mix of good and bad so every audience is catered to. Astonishing singers rose in a world of treated vocals and meaningless beat. Young actors find their feet even as old actors deliver their swansong. For all the new technology that abounds, we still have plenty of room for theatre, for live music, for performance of kinds divers

Our beloved leader, certainly the last Australian prime minister to address his fellows as 'Comrade', died at 98. I was glad to have fb'd about Gough (was he ever Mr Whitlam?) when he turned 98. Prescient.

It was the year that we traveled to the south island of New Zealand and saw much to awe and astonish.

It was a year where you could feel that you had a hell hound on your trail or a year of great discovery, of jubilant moments, of cause to celebrate.