Oranmore

07/03/23
9.10 A café in Oranmore.
Waiting for my daughter.
I face the till counter, a large space, there are few occupied tables, and the waitresses move swiftly. Funky music plays like the title sequence to an 80s TV show. All the staff seem to be on familiar terms with the customers. Bright lights, loud music, and nothing that sparks curiosity or wonder in me.
Leaving the café and still waiting I wander down a side road towards the castle.
It is a bright morning.
The chatter of sparrows and the trill of a small bird.
The constant hum of commuter traffic and the heavier sound of machinery nearby.
A clear sky and a man in a blue jacket. A large blue rectangular container.
A crisp light.
Oranmore castle, sitting on the end of the quay.
Low tide, the smell of seaweed, dead calm.
A father and his young son enjoy the shore.
The sound of ducks,
A lorry’s horn.
Cars on the horizon.
A splash, a ripple, a call.
Sun saturated seaweed, icy fingers.
An open view.