Bray of Sunshine
Ireland isn't necessarily known for it's sun, but there's one hike that's guaranteed to brighten your outlook.
After years of busyness and poor boundaries, I knew I needed to get away from my life in the U.S. for a little while and take many a long deep breath. My trip started in Ireland, where a red-haired friend informed me of a delightful walk (that’s “hike” in American English) that begins in Bray. That’s all I needed to hear.
As I stepped off the train into the small Irish coastal town, a wave of peace washed over me—the winds gently weaving their way around the Bray streets, straight into my lungs. The Irish Sea lapped onto dark, smooth stones as I peered intently, seeking Wales, though I knew full-well that it was too far to see on the horizon. A gentle fog in the distance in each direction seemed to hold the visible world together as if it was one big living room.
That’s Ireland for you; the wind blew, the sun didn’t shine, yet I felt warm.
I turned and began following the consistent flow of people to the trail that hugged the growing mountain at the south end of the beach.
Mid-way up the first uphill, I broke off for a steeper climb that veered up and right. There, I found an expansive green lawn growing across acres of land.
Behind me, the Irish Sea waxed and waned in the distance. I took off my backpack, placed it precisely under my head, and fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, I was so refreshed that it felt like the grass grew tall beneath me and pushed me to my feet.
The trail wound along the coast, elevated a 100 (+/-) feet above the water, with an occasional train winding on the tracks that lined the water like a toy train mirrors the curve at the bottom of a Christmas tree .
The frequency of seeing others decreased as I went further and elevation climbed. Crazily, it seemed the fields on the hills to my right used to be utilized for grazing, even though the pitch was beyond what seemed reasonable for anything to stand, let alone stand and eat. Those sweeping fields of green sparkled with wildflowers and stone fences that were more vertical than horizontal. That scene, up and to the right, intrigued me and I veered in that direction off trail, unwisely choosing to climb straight up the fields (a fall would have likely sent me tumbling). I put my head down, leaned forward and began heading straight up.
Each time I turned, the view enveloped me and I drew higher and higher. I felt alone...but in the best way possible. When I reached a rock outcropping, I stood for what seemed like days. Slowly, with each breath, the walk’s beauty was doing it’s job of stitching back together the hole I’d let busyness tear in my heart. Everything was symphony, quiet and powerful. Real.
When I ascended the crest to find a massive cross, I looked around thankful in every direction. After some prayers of gratitude for life and health, I started walking down the path that lead along the tops of the hills. But for some reason, I broke out into a run. Large green shrubs in every direction swallowed the trail and I stopped in awe...but just for a second, I continued into the maze only to get overpowered by a faint, familiar smell. I approached the yellow flowers that were surrounding me and took a big whiff. I would have never guessed the smell I recognized from those lemon-colored Irish flowers. Coconut, woody and fresh.
As I continued the run and came down the other side of the hills into the seaside town of Greystones, I’d stopped many times to breathe deeply and take in the majesty of the scenery around me. When the sun set with hues of pinks and oranges and I stepped back on the train, I didn’t yet have a firm grasp on how much of a positive impact that walk had on me. But I felt—so strongly—that the peace of the coast, high hills, hidden trails, and grassy fields opened me up to feel more like myself again.
In the midst of gloomy weather inside myself and along the coast, a ray of sunshine lighted my soul.
