Graveyard Shuffle

A nice evening with the wife and wean in an Indian place in Glasthule (a nearby suburb in south Dublin). He managed to behave himself for about half an hour; then it was time to turn the rice into wedding confetti and climb the walls. Didn't get a chance to go blipping till near sundown, after I helped bathe and bed him. A bit tired, not really in the mood for it. Drove out to Dalkey, those (mostly) modest houses with billionaire views. Ah, if only we lived in one with wall-to-wall seascape and sealight, I'd drink it up all day, never get bored with it (or so I like to believe).

Fabulous sunset, pinky reds and smoky blues. Contemplated the silhouettes of roofs, aerials etc. Beautiful, but, photographically, blah.

I set up a tripod outside Dalkey station and clicked the people walking out and in, trying to get a fluttery shadow-shape to add a little movement. A tall, broad-shouldered but quiet-voiced guy came over to me and asked me to erase his image. He wasn't Irish, judging from his accent. Polish? Russian? Perhaps he suspected me of being some kind of nefarious surveillance person (after all, why not?). I explained that I was only looking for blurred figures and showed him what I had taken (one BIG advantage with digital cameras).
"Okay?"
"Okay."
"I know it looks a bit strange, but I'm just one of those mad arty photographers..."
"You're right, it does look strange."

I got some shots that seemed alright, buit nothing really promising. Then, on the way home, I found my stage. I'd noticed this graveyard before, but had forgotten about it. I set up and shot a few passers-by. Nobody minded, if they even noticed.