On the way to Dingle, laden with a different hitchhiker, I pulled off the road to take in the view. The trouble with photography is that so much context is lost (for better or worse) and only the visual remains. For this picture, an almost overpowering wind poured off the sea and up the slope. But just a few steps away, the breeze arcs over the ridge and creates a pocket of stillness and quiet, in which sheep mill about and battle to tame the thick lush grass.