Describe a photograph you like

The photo I like the most is a picture of my family on the top of Poon Hill, which is a famous viewpoint in the mountains of Nepal. There are four of us, my parents, my younger sister and me, and behind us you can see the snow mountains like Dhaulagiri. The sky is pink, because it was a sunrise. My sister is half sleeping on my mother's shoulder and my father is pointing to the mountains, like he is a tour guide.

It was taken three years ago, in October. We were trekking for four days from near Pokhara, and on that morning we woke up at four o'clock and climbed in the dark with torches.

The person who took it was a woman from Korea. She was trekking alone and standing next to us, and she offered to take a photo of all of us with my father's phone. We never meet her again, but I still feel thankful.

I like it because it is the only photo where all my family is together. Usually me or my father take the photos, so one of us is always missing. Also, now my father has a problem with his knees, so we can't do this kind of trek again. My mother printed it and put it in our living room, and every time I look it I feel very warm.

The photo I'd choose is one of my family at the top of Poon Hill, a well-known viewpoint in the Annapurna region of Nepal. There are four of us in it, my parents, my younger sister and me, all wrapped in borrowed jackets, and behind us there's this enormous wall of snow-capped peaks, including Dhaulagiri, glowing pink in the first light. My sister is half asleep on Mum's shoulder, and my dad is pointing at the mountains as if he's personally responsible for them.

It was taken about three years ago, in October. We'd been trekking for four days from just outside Pokhara, and that morning we'd set off at half past four and climbed the last stretch in the dark with head torches.

What's nice is that a stranger took it. A Korean woman who was trekking on her own happened to be standing next to us, and she offered to take one of all four of us on Dad's battered old phone. We never even found out her name, but I'm really grateful for her.

The main reason I love it is that it's the only photo I have of my whole family together. Normally either Dad or I am behind the camera, so somebody is always missing. On top of that, Dad's knees have got much worse since then, so I doubt we'll ever do a trek like that again. Mum had it printed and framed, and now it hangs in our living room, which means I see it every day.

The photograph I treasure most is of my family on the summit of Poon Hill, a viewpoint in the Annapurna foothills in Nepal. The four of us are huddled together in borrowed down jackets, my parents, my younger sister and me, and behind us a whole wall of Himalayan peaks, Dhaulagiri among them, has just caught the sunrise and turned a sort of rose gold. My sister is visibly asleep on her feet, propped against Mum, while Dad is gesturing at the mountains with the pride of someone who arranged them himself.

It was taken three Octobers ago. We'd been trekking for four days by then, and we'd dragged ourselves out of bed at four to climb the final section by head torch, which my sister has still not entirely forgiven us for.

Oddly enough, it was taken by a complete stranger. A Korean woman travelling solo was standing beside us at the railing, and she must have noticed that we were taking it in turns to photograph each other, because she simply held out her hand for Dad's ancient phone. We never exchanged more than a few words, yet she gave us something we'd never managed to get ourselves.

That, really, is why it matters. It's the only picture in existence of all four of us together, because one of us is always the one holding the camera. And it's become more precious with time: Dad's knees have deteriorated since then, and I suspect that was the last trek we'll ever do as a family. Mum had it enlarged and framed, and it hangs by our front door, so it's the last thing I see every time I leave the house.