Facing the Wrong Way

I am so spoiled and blessed to live where I do; for nine months of the year, I am in the West and can watch the sun set over the waters of Puget Sound.   For the other three months, I am in the West of the East (along the Gulf Coast of Florida) and can watch the sun set over the water in the Gulf of Mexico.

We've been in Ireland almost a week now and almost without fail, we have been pointing the wrong way at sunset; a mountain or hill has been standing between us and the sunset, rather rudely blocking the colors and light that spruce up the sky with delight at the end of the day.   It may be easy to ask the question: "Why would I not just watch the sunrise instead?".  And my answer would readily be that in my world, sunrises are not an option.  I think it should be illegal to be awake so early in the morning.

Seeking a sunset over the Atlantic, we finished driving the Ring of Kerry, barely surviving another day of Irish roads and wrong-side-driving, to end at Inch Beach on the Dingle peninsula in the southwest of Ireland.   Over three miles of sandy beach were enough to send me temporarily to heaven, but we also had the added bonus of viewing the sun set into the western sky while casting its color over both the hills and the waters of the Atlantic Ocean:

In my world, this is close enough to the perfect sunset.  I don't blame the suite of rather large hills for interrupting the view just a wee bit.  In fact, they could win a gold medal for adding beauty to the whole scene.