Tramore, Co. Waterford in the sunny south-east of Ireland is the place where I was born and the place that has been home now for the last twenty-five years.
Yesterday morning I was woken by puppy, Stan, who lured me out for a walk at dawn. It was one of those golden mornings and I felt absolutely blessed as we strolled along a route which is beyond familiar to me but which is ever-changing.
Rather than heading to the three mile long beach, from which Tramore takes its name, we stayed at the top of the town. This took us passed the two churches, which merge in my mind as the child of a mixed marriage.
The Victorian Doneraile Walk, which has such wonderful vistas of Tramore Bay, called us. It is the place where my mother walked every evening when she was pregnant with me and I just love the views it provides of Tramore Bay. From there, we went to the Pier where the boats were tugging and waiting for the tide to rise. One man, though, was up bright and early paddling in his kayak.
The Cliff Road is the place that I associate with my own pregnancy almost twenty years ago now. I walked it daily for the nine months and got to know every nook and cranny along the way.
And our final destination was Newtown Wood which has the little bridge that I consider to be my very own social bridge.
I hope you enjoy this short slideshow of the photographs which I took on Sunday. I know that Tramore will never, ever look exactly the same because its beauty is ever-changing with the time, tide, light, weather, season and, I suppose, the mood and interests of the beholder.
|A free picture slideshow by Smilebox|