Walking along the northern shore of Killary Harbour on an early April morning. The clouds move swiftly inland from the sea, bringing the odd shower. The ground is wet and soft like a sponge, There is no path, just the slope rising steeply to our left, speckled with sheep's droppings. The wind blows relentlessly. We climb along the coastal edge, pass the ruin of a cottage abandoned an eternity ago, silence. Just us and occasionally some very noisy seagulls.