On Christmas Eve we left Dublin for the west.
pearly and luminescent in winter, but the wind blows hard
(*I can’t find the name of this beach
how can a beach like that have no name?)
Anchor Beach was just up the road, the anchor starting to reveal itself as the tide went out.
I wanted to see it in all the tides.
The stranded anchor gives the beach a bleak magnetism
(its ship, the Verity, sailed all the way from Quebec but sank here in January 1880)
it needed to be saluted with a cold swim on Christmas morning
it was freezing and inexplicably enjoyable
The wind started to whip up though
vexing the sea.
After that there was no more swimming with the anchor and we went back to the inner city, to be locked down.
*the nameless beach might be Emlagh beach