Fog On Bray Head
I've been climbing the Head again, partly because I can let the collie off the lead up there, unlike the on the farm roads round Kilruddery, where I've been told off a few times now. I almost always go the same route, not the main one, whose steps begin just outside the car park, but the one that you can reach by walking to the end of the field (what I think of as the dog-walkers' field) that rises steeply from the car park and stretches to the far end of the woods on the Head. When you get to the end of the field you simply go left, into the woods, and follow the path uphill. It's about 25 minutes of stiff walking to the cross on the summit, and there are a couple of places where you emerge in lovely little clearings among rocks and gorse, and can see over the prom and the beach far below, right out, beyond Dalkey Island, to the other end of this pincer-landmass, Howth Head.
Unless the weather is terrible, there are always a few climbers, teenagers, couples, or older dog walkers, etc.
It was pleasantly warm, if quite clammy. If this were a normal August, there would have been far more people up here, despite the dense fog that drew a blind on the panoramic views from Howth to the Wicklow and Dublin Mountains.
So the grey wave of the pandemic reaches us, and separates us farther. We are more likely to turn into ourselves, like the two single people in the picture, one looking at the blanked-out view, the other deep in his book.
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