Bhí maidin bhog samhraidh i nDún Laoghaire, agus bhí brat ceo ag clúdach Trá Bhaile an Chlochaigh.

It was a soft summer morning in Dún Laoghaire, and a blanket of fog covered Trá Bhaile an Chlochaigh.

Bhí sé seo ina áit álainn, lán le radharcra iontach agus fuaim suaimhneach na dtonnta ag teacht isteach.

This was a beautiful place, full of incredible scenery and the soothing sound of the waves coming in.

Ba é sin an tírdhreach a chonaic Cillian gach lá.

That was the landscape Cillian saw every day.

D'fheidhmigh sé mar fhreastalaí tarrthála sa cheantar, ach bhí rud amháin a chuir isteach go mór air.

He worked as a lifeguard in the area, but there was one thing that greatly bothered him.

Gach maidin, roimh theacht na gréine, bhí rian coise mistéireach le feiceáil ar an ghaineamh.

Every morning, before the sun rose, a mysterious footprint trail could be seen on the sand.

Thosaigh na lorg ag imeall an uisce, agus lean siad isteach go teach cósta beag.

The footprints started at the water's edge and led up to a small coastal house.

Níor tháinig siad ar ais go dtí an fharraige.

They did not return to the sea.

Thaitin le Cillian fios a chur ar an mystery seo amach.

Cillian was eager to uncover this mystery.

An oiread sin ba mhian leis, gur shocraigh sé breacadh an lae a ardú ag an trá.

So much so that he decided to rise at the break of dawn on the beach.

D'éirigh sé maidin amháin, nuair a bhí an spéir fós dorcha.

He got up one morning when the sky was still dark.

Chuir sé a chuid éadaí lifeguard air agus shiúil sé go cúramach i dtreo an uisce.

He put on his lifeguard clothes and walked carefully towards the water.

Bhríste sé ag an fharraige.

He waited by the sea.

Ansin, d'éirigh scáthúlacht oíche ón uisce!

Then, a shadowy figure emerged from the water!

Ba í Maeve an scáth seo, bean le díograis mhór don bhéaloideas.

This shadow was Maeve, a woman with a great enthusiasm for folklore.

Labhair Maeve le guth ciúin.

Maeve spoke in a quiet voice.

"Tá tú mar chonaic mé, Cillian.

"You are the one I saw, Cillian.

Is tradisiún ársa é seo - snámh meán oíche samhraidh.

This is an ancient tradition – the midnight summer swim.

Ár seosúr rúnda, caomhnaithe laistigh de mhuintir na háite ar feadh na haoiseanna."

Our secret season, preserved within the local community for ages."

Bhí ionadh ar Cillian.

Cillian was astonished.

Ach d'éist sé go haireach agus thosaigh taispeántas síscéalta a fhilleadh. D'fhoghlaim sé faoi thraidisiún samhailteach a rinne muintir na háite le chéile sa cheo dorcha, ag caomhnú ceangal lenár stair.

But he listened carefully and began to learn about the enchanting tradition shared by the locals in the dark mist, preserving their connection to history.

Athraigh rudaí do Cillian.

Things changed for Cillian.

Thuig sé anois luach na scéalta agus na traidisiúin.

He now understood the value of stories and traditions.

Thuig sé nach raibh an t-amárach i gcónaí chomh soiléir is a cheapaimid.

He realized that the future is not always as clear as we think.

Agus maidir leis na cosáin sin, níor chuir sé isteach air níos mó.

And as for those footprints, they no longer bothered him.

D'fhág sé iad i mbun an chósta, i bhfianaise nua, go brách.

He left them by the coast, in a new light, forever.