Mullaghmore

After the exertions of yesterday this was primarily a beach day - not, of course, in the sense of getting out the bucket and spade, nor the deckchairs (heaven forbid), but doing some beachcombing, for photographs, looking for patterns and reflections and compositions to frame Sligo's majestic mountains. The sky was a willing assistant too. There was so much weather. We were blessed with some breathtaking cloudscapes.

The best moment was when walking down the strand from Mullaghmore. I looked behind to see not just a dark sky but a black one. It was as menacing as anything I've seen in a long while. Realising that the bright sunshine we were enjoying was not going to last, I ran ahead to take some photographs. I passed a couple of people who jokingly questioned why I was in such a rush. "Look behind you," I said. As soon as they saw the incoming weather they turned about face and hurried in the opposite direction. We soon had the beach to ourselves. And very soon after got quite wet - although perhaps not quite as soaked as we were expecting. The sun was soon out again and we were pretty much dry by the time we finished our walk.

There was another great moment beside the harbour pictured here. There was an event going on to commemorate the Armada, to which the village has connections. There were hundreds of people on the quay, looking out to sea, but at what we had no idea. I asked a few people and no one actually seemed to know. They were just looking to see if they could see what everyone else was looking at. Like us! 

I'm reminded of a story my dad told me as a kid. He said that he and a few friends had conspired to stand together looking and pointing at the sky. Before too long they were joined by a few more people and some story was told to grab their interest. After a few more people had gathered and the story had taken root, my dad and his friends wandered off. They came back an hour later and a whole different group of people were still there looking up at the sky. When they were asked as to what they were looking at, the original story had been embellished almost beyond recognition. I can't remember the details, and I doubt now whether it's true, but that doesn't really matter. It says a lot about his personality and how my own sense of humour has developed. This notion has always appealed to me. I'll have to try it myself one day.

I could have blipped so many shots of the beaches and the mountains, but Mullaghmore was the centre point of our many little excursions today. From hundreds of photographs, this best serves the journal. And I rather like it too!