Behind the Shot: Dunquin Pier, Ireland
I had set out on a solo 7-day road trip to circle the entire island of Ireland—no strict plans other than accommodations - just a map, a car, and the desire to follow the wind.
This image was taken at Dunquin Pier, just beyond the town of Dingle along the Kerry Ring. I had just finished a long six-hour portion of my journey, and barely dropped my bag at a small farmhouse a few miles away when I saw the light begin to shift. I raced down the road back to the edge of the cliffs.
By the time I arrived, the pier had already been closed for the evening. The parking lot was empty. The last bus had long since rolled away. But I stayed.
The sun hung low over the Atlantic, and the jagged rock formations in the bay caught the light just right—sharp silhouettes gilded in gold. I stood there alone, watching shadows stretch across the sea, the kind of silence that feels rare in the modern world.
But it wasn’t truly silent.
The crash of waves echoed off the cliffs.
The wind whispered through the tall coastal grass.
And the gulls cried in the distance, echoing the day’s last light.
There were no human voices. No engines. No footsteps.
Just the wild world speaking in its own tongue.
That stillness, natural and vast, was what I tried to capture in this shot.
Not just what I saw, but what I felt.
