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Isn't this just your luck – we are going to what was once voted the second most beautiful beach in the world, and you don't even get a single picture of it!
To be fair, I do feel a little bad about not bringing my camera. But then again, I also remember how taking pictures and uploading them for sharing is a bore, and I have too much of a work backlog to go through right now so I hope I can be excused.
Besides, there is no way my camera (or the man using it) could have done justice to the sights that were granted to us of Fort Dunree and the Urris Hills in the evening sun. So you are probably better off not getting half-assed attempts from someone who's trying to pretend that, somehow, they may qualify at being a semi-competent photographer.
Loads of stuff to keep us busy at home these days... But then, around other people's supper time, we decided we could use a break and, on the longest day of the year, enjoy that little bit of light, that got emitted from our local star 500 or so seconds ago, getting reflected off the natural scenery.
Looks like we chose the right hour too, even if we can't help but be very conscious of the showers that are approaching from the east. Oh well, localized showers have never really bothered us, so we heartily set forth onto the sand, without looking back.
If this is the second beautiful beach on this planet then people sure don't seem to be aware of it: even as we walk close to the the full length of the strand and back, we're not going to meet or even see a single soul. Not that you'd ever hear me complain about that!
About half way towards Portsalon, the shower finally hits us with full force. But even with its accompanying wind, it remains a gentle shower, one like only the month June seems to have the secret of, and there is something about witnessing individual drops of rain hitting a large body of water that is hard to explain: the fleetingness of each rippling event, from the thousands and thousands of individual raindrops, along with the knowledge that none of what we are seeing is ever going to present itself to anybody else, or even our own selves, ever again...
Put away all these artificial human constructs, that offer the same reliable boring look from one second to the next, and give us some unpredictable in our life! I guess some say that much is to be revealed from the fleetingness of time and there certainly would be a lot to say about time, on a day whose sole designation is based on the duration of daylight. Then again, being the facetious type, I would also readily add that there is probably even more better left unsaid, especially by this passable excuse of a blog writer.
Still, without wanting to pursue ill-appropriate philosophical matters for too long, I'd surmise that it is probably true that time does reveal everything... but only in the manner as gravity indirectly reveals the presence of invisible masses. In other words you have to look for something, or perhaps even already know what you are looking for, to find it "revealed".
In our immediate case however, what time does reveal, as the showers subside and cross the sea towards Inishowen, is an amazing set of double fully formed rainbows. With their arches starting almost at my feet, I think I see colours in there, that I never knew existed.
All I can say then is that good fortune always seems to smile... to the man who forgot (or chose not to bring) his camera. Surely the post-showers evening light would have made for brilliant pictures, no matter the hardware or the hand holding it. Another day, then. Or maybe you should simply come over by yourself, to the second most beautiful strand in the world, at an hour where it is deserted, and see what I am talking about for yourself.
Speaking (reluctantly) of light, and as I am reporting this promenade whilst still contemplating an extended sunset at close to midnight, I do feel like I could pretty much go back there right now, or in a couple of hours even, and not be bothered in the slightest with regards to being able to see where I place my feet. Being this far north mid-June, there is no such thing as "night" ― only an extended sunset that gradually morphs into a sunrise. Heck, there are weeks here where you can't even see the stars!
Not that I would tell you if and where I go for a midnight stroll anyway. Regardless of whether time is set to reveal it all, a man has to try to keep some secrets you know...
Suggested Sound Track
Since Tr3s Luna is the album I was listening to while driving back, it seems quite fitting to select an atmospheric track for this beach stroll, especially as I got subjected to the elements. Plus, if we are talking about time, we might as well venture just a little bit further along that line.
