Seal-Watcher, Bullock Harbour

Fiachra dropped by today and we had lunch together. Great to see him; he's had his head down for the Music Tech course he's doing in Trinity so I haven't had a good talk with him in weeks. Later I drove over to my old friend Yvonne's in Sandycove. We had a good chat over tea and biscuits in her pleasantly lived-in cottage: the books and arbitrary clutter mede me feel right at home. She's still buried in her forthcoming book, so I left her to it after an hour or so.

There wasn't much light left, and the weather was out walking its wolfy dog again, so I decided to check out Bullock Harbour and see what the sea was up to. I stepped through that magic doorway into (and onto) the secluded rocky outlet behind the fishermen's huts/offices and photographed scattered handfuls of gulls blowing about beyond those lovely big shelves of granite lined and creased as if they were themselves half-finished Origami birds. Blurred yellow lights of trawlers provided stationary points. I used the waterproof cover for the camera which meant I had to use both hands and the footing was precarious.

Then back through the doorway to the harbour proper, where I noticed this man (his name was Oriel I think) who turned out to be busy photographing the local seals with his camera-phone. I looked down and saw one immediately, his huge snout resting just below the greeny brown surface, like a giant, worn keyhole-cover. A glimpse of the animal peace down below, seals reclining in their broad living room, snorting with apparent contentment.