Dusk on an autumn evening, orange light reflecting on the foliage.
The grounds of Blarney Castle were almost empty an hour before closing time on a rainy November Sunday afternoon. We climbed to the top the top of the fortress to kiss the famous stone, of course, but that whole part felt fake and gimmicky (although, was also legitimately terrifying for a short person like me).
Exploring the grounds, though, I loved that. The poison garden, the rock close, the fairy glade, the wishing steps, the fern garden.
A swing set overlooking the sheep pen. Swinging, steadily, freely, high into the pink sky, watching the sheep graze ahead until close.
Blarney Castle, Cork County of Ireland, November