Near Irishtown Stadium

The last time I photographed near here it was daylight, around Halloween. There was a bonfire smoldering and a few kids tossed a couple of empty beer cans at me. Tonight it was peaceful. There was a game on (presumably practice) and many joggers and dog-walkers, including this man, David, with whom I had a brief pleasant conversation.

I've passed this football pitch countless times on my way to the airport or my photography/film project in the docklands. I often thought the lighting at night was interesting, so this evening, looking for something to photograph, I had stopped and crossed the road with a tripod. I love the delicate, ghost-like colours of the trees in the distant background hovering above the hot green slash of grass.

I had left the poor dog in the car. I rewarded her with a long walk on Sandymount Strand, where she found a lovely big flouncing lab to play with. The tide was out, probably just beginning to come in, the moon just off full behind a very painterly smudge of inky cloud. Distant brassy glints of ships tacked to the horizon. Whistler colours, silvery grey-blues and pewter. That sense of nearness and distance, as if (if you had the right kind of stride, like Yeats' Malachi-Stilt-Jack) you could step quickly across the dream space amphitheater to the far, incoming lick of waves.

A longish walk for a change, down a good ways along the prom and across the sand to the border of that pitch where I'd been earlier, then back.