Walking along the Quay in Waterford City ~ the oldest city in Ireland ~ is one of my favourite things to do early on a Sunday morning.
The River Suir is nearing its long journey to the sea by the time it reaches Waterford and today I started further down the Estuary on my way to Waterford. The sun was just about getting up and all was still:
The Suir was all agleam when I got to Waterford and, as always, my eyes were drawn to Rice Bridge which holds such significance for me in terms of ‘coming home’ to Tramore, especially from Dublin.
The skyline of the City, taken in the morning light, evokes a real sense of the immensity of the history of Waterford, spanning back the centuries.
When Waterford blood runs through your veins, it’s always glorious to see this blue and white banner!
The names of the boats moored along the Quay are one of my fascinations. Today, it was Agile that got me reflecting.
Clearly, boats need agility to cope with the vagaries of the sea. But, humans need an immense amount of both physical and mental agility to navigate their way through life.
I was awake very early yesterday morning and had one of those pre-dawn walks with puppy Stan before the birds were even chirping.
Just as we were coming home I could see that there was the prospect of a glorious sunrise out at Dunmore East. I haven’t said much before about how Co. Waterford is very much divided into the East and West for all sorts of things, including sport. But I suspect the division may have started with the sun, like so many other traditions.
I knew I just had to get to the Coastal Walk in Dunmore ~ a place that is fast becoming very special to me because of the magnificent vistas it presents and, of course, its view across the Waterford Estuary to the Hook Head Lighthouse in Co. Wexford, the oldest operational lighthouse in the world.
I didn’t meet a soul on my travels; just as well really as I felt like a character in Wuthering Heights and only realised when I got home that I was wearing odd shoes and the raggediest jacket in the place ~ one that served as Stan’s emergency bedding for a while.
Here’s the drama that unfolded before my very eyes out on that glorious Coastal Walk high up on the cliffs.
Bridge of Dreams
Back at Dunmore East Harbour, the boats were swaying as the gulls screeched. And there among the fishing boats was this one:
I caught this glimpse of Tramore on my way home, taking a few of the lovely by-roads on the eight mile trip. The tide was almost fully in so the sand dunes were surrounded by water with the Back Strand sky blue and I suspected the gentle waves lapping up on to my beloved beach. I always feel gleeful when I can see the Comeragh Mountains standing tall behind Tramore and think Waterford is a county that has everything I could ever want.
It was one of those mystical mornings here in Co. Waterford as a long, long day stretched ahead.
This is how I saw Midsummer Day 2014 opening her eyes over my precious patch:
From Dunmore East, I travelled back towards Tramore along the coast road. I couldn’t resist taking a little detour to check out the view of Tramore Beach with the Comeragh Mountains beyond from a delightful hayfield above Saleens.