When the sky gets the upper hand over the clouds, Ireland puts on its most delightful summer colours. It was late June when the usual thick greyish haze stopped invading the heaven’s realm, allowing a mousy sun and its bluish kingdom winning against darkness. The sound of splashy waves was never too far to be heard but only those who knew how to listen would appreciate their catchy harp melody. On the shore, the large expanse of greenish fields housed thousands of shamrocks, setting aside the four-leaf ones to the luckiest.
Perched on the Howth Cliff, a feeling of littleness may overwhelm you fairly swiftly. The vastness of the sea and its blurry borders has given me the illusion that I was observing the edge of the world. It was as if this place was filled with little fairies playing a trick on me. Maybe that if I watched carefully enough between every fern leaf, I would have found a small Leprechaun managing the fairies so that his pot of gold remains hidden from mesmerised-by-the-view hikers...
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