My Photograph Of An Irish Sunset

It is not as warm as it looks but sure was worth the cold walk uphill. Things got a lot colder when I fell into a puddle from the waist down. In the sopping wet amidst the cold March wind rattling my bones, I thought the game was up. I contemplated staying for the Sunset or going home seeing as I’d no change of clothes.

Then I suddenly remembered the bags of old clothes my wife had said she’d placed in the boot of the car destined for the charity shop. The only question was what sort of clothes? I didn’t fancy having to squeeze into a pair of my wife’s Jeans or worse an old dress. No, surely no photograph that the world will never see nor make it into the National Geographic is worth putting on a floral dress, is it?

I went back to the car and to my surprise, a pair of my old jeans were there. On top of the mountain, I stripped from the waist down as fast as I could. The reason for such a speedy transition was not only due to the bone-chilling wind gnawing at my very soul, but the thought of anyone seeing my milky white legs deciding it would be a good idea to video it for social media.

My feet were still soaked but I was willing to forgo the pain of that if at the very least I’d have some coverage. The deed was done and a somewhat fresh new me made my way back up the Hill to capture this sunset. I’m glad I did. Let me know what you think of it in the comments.

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