It’s perfect weather, cool and overcast, as I set out. It’s the kind of weather that reminds me of Ireland, the time when my mindset most closely mirrored the atmosphere. There’s a chill that calls for a light coat, and I know I won’t take it off halfway through the walk because we’re losing the sun, we’re into the magic hour, and it will only get colder.
I have my water bottle, and I decide it should weight down my left pocket tonight. If I hadn’t filled it up and brought it along, I know I’d spend the entire walk dreaming of a cool drink.