Thursday, 23 February 2012


There is a day in Canada, one day in the winter, when you can smell the weather change. When you can smell the ground melting into dewy warmth, when you can smell the snow melting nearly before it transforms into gently running water.

There is no severity in the shift of seasons in Dublin. One melts into the next, bordering on each other, invading. But on days like this... the clarity is stunning.

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