The battle of light and dark

Each season evokes a strong set of memories in each of us. Some are remnants from childhood and others reflect our general nature.

My memories of summer are of warm days with no cares – despite it generally being wet and worrisome. My memories of winter are of the short dark days and the gloom of another damp weather front spreading from the Atlantic.  I assume that this is because of the natural cycle of my moods a much as anything.

This is Grafton St. in Dublin on a sunny winter Saturday. The sort of day you’d like to be dozing in in  a sun room with the dog beside you and a cup of tea and some biscuits in your belly.

The battle of light and dark

The battle of light and dark

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