Patrick Comerford
I have a busy working week ahead of me in England, and it looks like heavy rain in both Dublin and in East Anglia in the early morning. But, despite the looming storm, I decided to go for a walk on the beach in Skerries late this afternoon.
On the way, the fields were green and gold and we stopped near Blake’s Cross to buy strawberries by the road. We were told they were grown in Bellewstown, Co Meath.
The conversation soon turned to the races at Bellewstown, the races on the beach at Laytown and Bettystown, and h fresh, full, farm-grown strawberries hold the taste and promise of summer in a way that you never seem to get from ones force-grown under plastic tunnels.
Our next stop was for coffee at the Olive on Strand Street in Skerries, where they still serve the best double espresso in Fingal there.
Down on the South Beach, the tide was out, and although there were few families or strollers on the beach, the sand was white and soft under my feet.
As we walked around Red Island, there were clear views across to the Mountains of Mourne, blue in relief on the horizon beyond on the south coast of Co Down.
But only one yacht had ventured out into the water, and while Skerries Sailing Club seemed to be hive of afternoon activity, it seemed everyone was prepared for a storm later in the evening.
After picking up the Guardian, the Economist and the Skerries News in Gerry’s, across the street from the Olive Café, it was time to head back through those fields and green and gold to pack my bags for the week ahead.
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