Looks best embiggened.
Once we reached the very end of the headland we wordlessly sat down. Buns, water and crisp sandwiches were dispensed but for the most part we stayed silent and motionless. I lay down on the heather and stared out at the horizon, trying to figure out whether I was thinking of something or if this was some kind of involuntary meditation.
For a good 30 minutes we stayed there, the sun beating down and the wind picking up and calming down in bursts. Small boats came in with obvious difficulty, waves spraying them vigorously.
We walked out along a headland, mostly comprised of rough, fern-laden farmland that pointed towards the Skelligs. We fought to find paths and made our own as we headed towards this outcrop, the prize of the adventure. There’s nothing like the vague feeling a good wind could hurl you down a cliff to enjoy getting to the most exposed part of it.
More mountains.
The sheer number of photos I have of absolutely breathtaking views makes it hard to hold back from posting so many of them. I find it pretty impossible to consider myself to have properly appreciated the places I saw in Kerry given the fractal nature of the beauty all around me, as I got closer to one thing it would disclose more of itself and give new viewpoints of other places, including where I had just come from.
