As I approach the beach and the river and the bridge, along the landscaped path I look up and out. My eyes focus in on a wave in that moment before the weight of the water falls in on itself.
The river is russet from the bogs in the glens from whence it came.
Where it meets the sea the waves break orange, but further along the shore the peaty shades fade and dilute to a more predictable hue.
The river is gushing so forcefully. As I put my camera into it the water goes right up my arm, out onto the sand and all over my boots.
Sitting in the dunes, I wade in to my own thoughts and wallow, gazing out on the relentless pattern of collapsing waves.