A Dingle Drive

The folder was unlovingly called “card dump”. I was looking for something else in the hard drive when I came across it. In it were shots I had completely forgotten about. Looking through them, they transported me right back to that windy walk and that gorgeous Kerry scenery that looked all the more amazing through Ben’s then new 20mm lens.

Part of the reason that I love that photography is because I have a terrible long-term memory. Seriously, it’s really bad. So photos like these don’t just bring back what something looked like, but what it felt like. How windy it was. How happy I was just wandering and snapping. Creeping into a clochán, setting the camera on a timer and leaning in for a fuzzy, slow-shutter kiss. Stopping along the drive because of how beautifully the light was hitting some fields. How deliciously creamy that serving of Murphy’s ice cream was. How stress-free and removed from everything I felt. Isn’t it amazing that a couple of pictures can do that?

After (or before, I’m not too sure – see, bad memory) I bought a little sheep souvenir, and promised myself that we’d do more weekends like these. I can’t believe this was almost a year and a half ago. Since then, I’ve been to California, London and Andalucia (post on that coming soon), but haven’t yet had another homeland escape quite like this one.