Like many places, Glendalough Valley transforms around the hours of dusk and dawn. Also known as the Magic Hour.

I arrived at the upper lake just before sunrise as a blanket of fog sat on the water's surface. Slowly, the mist lifted and the sun’s soft light illuminated the valley. The lake’s stillness provided the perfect reflection. By 9am, the crowds had started to arrive and I headed back to my van for a nap.

Later that evening, the trails fell quiet again, and I hiked to the miners’ village. I noticed a herd of wild goats roaming up in the hills. I sat and watched as they made their way down into the valley towards a stream of water. They threw a few glances my way as I took several photos. Darkness fell, the goats retreated, and so did I.