I was in Ireland for, among other things, St Patrick’s Day. The day before there was a band competition in Limerick City not far from where we were staying. A couple of fellow travelers and I went into town to watch. It was a typical Irish winter day. Clouds fought with the sun for supremacy, and won. Blustery and wet, the crowd squinted into the bright, overcast sky rooting for the underdog

We looked for a good spot to watch the parade of bands from all over the world and settled on a spot on the west side of O’Connell Street that would allow us to escape to a nice Italian restaurant on the Shannon River if we grew bored or cold or, as would be the case, both of those things. O’Connell Street was blocked off as far as we could see with barriers between the sidewalks and street. Marshals and Gardaí in high visi vests stood guard or patrolled up and down, thus insuring order would be kept. We were not far from the judging stand and obvious dignitaries passed us in their well-tailored finery and quaffed hair, doing their best to look respectable, and doing a fine job.

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I was busy with my camera gear. My company was looking around waiting and listening for the first band. I was panning the crowd with my new 75-300 mm lens just firing away at the general public. Very often I find myself far more interested in the crowd of spectators than I am in the actual event, as was the case today. There were children everywhere in their Sunday best, faces painted with shamrocks, some wearing green wigs. The first band came along and it was a band of pipers, from where I can’t recall. There were a lot of pipers that day.

I cruised the opposite side of the street with my telephoto lens, looking for anything or anyone the might be interesting. I was just about to admit to myself that I was, in fact, terribly bored with the whole affair when I saw a lovely girl stop directly across the street from me on the edge of the crowd. She was holding up a small dog and very obviously not paying attention, at all, to the festivities. She looked somewhat annoyed by the whole thing and stood there, squinting in the general direction of the Sun, whom was this day losing the battle, and looking very irritated. She was quite attractive, but between the squinting and the look of annoyance on her face she was not being very attractive. Of course, she had no idea that anyone should be watching, at least, not yet.

I was pleased that she was not moving away, for whatever reason. She was perfectly framed by the crowd from where I was standing. I snapped away, occasionally feeling a little shy and panning across the crowd only to come back to her. I was curious to see if she would soften. I was hoping to catch her without the furrowed brow and the clenched jaw. It would be lovely to get a shot of her, well, being attractive. She began to notice my camera lens and squint, instead of at the Sun at me. The lens is like an eye, you see, and you can tell when one is obviously pointed in your direction, especially when it lingers.

So I snapped away to see what would happen and that is when I got the shot that I wanted.

I don’t know what was going through her mind or why she was riveted to her spot, but there she stood, now looking at me and wondering. She had put down the dog and focused her attention towards me. Seemingly annoyed, or maybe just curious, she started out with much the same look that she showed up with, but then something changed. She must have realized that I was indeed focused on her. She could have been thinking all kinds of things like who is this creeper and why is he taking photos of me? But I had a fair amount of kit on me and a lot of camera so I might have looked like I knew what I was doing. It might have occurred to her that I was interested in her or that I found her attractive, which I did, and, whatever she was thinking, her face relaxed, her lips parted, and she slowly brushed her hair from her eyes while looking intently at me. Click. What a lovely Irish cailín. For a split second, though we will never meet, or speak, we shared what to me is an intimate moment. The fact that she did not look annoyed anymore nor did she move away told me she did not mind being the subject. She must have realized that I was interested in her, at least as a subject and was flattered, I like to think. She typified the spirit of the Irish cailín and what I think of when I hear the term. Lovely girl. It might have been nice to tell her that in person but I am sure she knows.

One split-second later I realized why she had been standing there this whole time. A friend came out of the Meteor Mobile store and joined her. They collected themselves and, without ceremony, turned to walk away up Williams Street, never to be seen by me or my lens again. It wasn’t until later, while proofing the photos from the day, that I realized what a great shot I had. The weather was typical for Ireland in March. I did not get a great number of really good shots this trip, but I did get a few. This one might be the best. It is definitely one of my all-time favorites.