land versus sea

Although my enthusiasm for Dublin and her treasures may seem repetitive, the illustrations that feature its impeccable sources of joy are certainly not. As these days we enjoy a summery weather I am repeatedly told not to believe, the gf and I allowed ourselves just enough time after work to get changed, pack the rucksack with beach essentials, and cycle down to the coast. Whereas the dart takes you along many fine beaches as far south as Greystones, the one nearest to the city centre has its own unique appeal and is easily reachable by bike. At high tide the beach is perhaps 20 metres long, evident by the change in soil as the white thin sand fades into darker wet underground with streaks of seaweed and tiny crabs crawling around. As we climbed down the rocks separating the sand from the cycle track above the tide was low. So low, I couldn’t even see the sea. A flat wetland, with puddles and sandbanks as far as my sight would take me. Venturing well into this quagmire up and till a drier and less shallow stretch of sand we got to the point where distant waves could be discerned. Sitting down however the metre or so that my eye level was lowered was more than enough to hide the water again and all seemed endless bog again. Ships leaving the harbour seemed to be drifting on an endless desert landscape as they made their way to the ocean. How most peculiar that the change of tides covers such an immense area! An odd feature no doubt, but one I was immensely grateful for. How pure the bliss of sitting in the middle of that ostensibly endless scenery, savouring the salad we had taken along for dinner, with olives and cherries for dessert, gazing at a most intriguing landscape. Facing the coastline we have the Wicklow Mountains to our left, simmering in the distance behind the green city in the sun, colourful Georgian doors and wrought iron fences around cosy low houses. Turning further to the east the coastline disappears in the distance, its curves concealing Dalkey, Bray and Greystones from the eye, until land fades into open water, barely discernible beyond the vast stretches of sand that the sea has temporarily granted us. On our right the cranes and pipes of the Dublin harbour dominate the lion’s share of the scenery, with deep proud horns preceding the departure of yet another massive vessel making its way to the sea. Further to the east two tall white and red chimneys gaze over the Ireland’s capital; defining landmarks in a city where medieval spires have yet to concede their celestial dominance of the skies. And in the middle of all this intriguing scenery, so close to the dynamics of the city yet so very thoroughly shielded from its noises, smells and people, our sandbank offered just another insight into how truly magnificent Dublin is and how I keep falling more and more in love with its many treasures. Our light dinner was followed up by some fervently needed physical activity after a day in the office; chasing my orange frisbee while taking in the scents, sounds and sights of my energising surroundings I felt like a young dog with seemingly infinite energy. Hours we spent there, until the sun set and we ventured homeward, full of inspiration to write this precious memory down.