White Strand, Co. Mayo

I'd driven past the turn for White Strand with every intention of heading home. Then I looked up. Mweelrea had this enormous cap of cloud parked on its summit, perfectly still, and I knew I wasn't going anywhere.

From above, the tidal system here is remarkable. The river channel braids through pale sandflats before reaching the Atlantic, splitting and rejoining, all of it shifting with the tide. The beach itself is broad and almost white. A handful of farmhouses dot the green fields between shore and mountain, and they're so small against that landscape it's almost comical. You forget how empty this part of Mayo is until you see it laid out like this.

The light was low and warm. That last stretch of evening sun that picks out every ridge and fold on the mountainside. But what held me was the cloud. It hadn't moved. Not a fraction. I must have checked four or five times, convinced it would break apart. It never did. The wind was doing something interesting at altitude, holding that mass right over the peak while everything else in the sky drifted past. I watched for close to two hours, standing in wet grass in runners because I hadn't planned on stopping. That's always the way with the best evenings out here!

Without Mweelrea and its private weather system, this is a fine stretch of coast. With it, the whole scene has a focal point that holds your eye and won't let go.