Docklands Selfie

Delayed again (working on a first draft of a poem this time, and taking Lola for a romp in the park). Then Dave & Pat called in one their way to the rugby match (Munster/Leinster) in Lansdowne. I finally made it to the docks around 6.45, as the lovely misty evening was blueing into dusk.

The place was immensely quiet, hardly any ships, and none in the Alexandra basin where I was roaming about. Grain warehouses empty too, so that 'cliff-face' of maize looked like an installation. Part of my mind shifted down into a kind of dreamy, neutral gear -- my default melancholy setting -- but another part was goggle-eyed at the gorgeous colours, the sharp lights pricking the water, sky-blue cranes reflected in the grey blue Liffey and muddy puddles, crowd-noises from the stadium drifting across, reminding me of my time in that flat off Mountjoy Square where the cheers from Croker came billowing in the tall windows, deepening the sense of unemployed peace.

After driving through the gate I noticed the window of the Seamen's Mission prefab reflected in yet another puddle, the match playing on a TV inside, and I got out and shot a few frames and filmed it. While I was doing this a man stepped out and came over. I showed him what I was filming. He was curious but not suspicious. His name was Willy, a plainclothed Protestant Clergyman who runs the place with other volunteers. He invited me in for a cup of tea and biscuits and we sat in the cosy caravan-parlour and chatted. He was very friendly and welcoming. I signed the visitor's book and left after about half an hour.