The lighthouse glow, cranking in circles to warn sea crafts and creatures of potential doom, happens to work well as a land beacon too. In drizzled mists such as this, there's a reassurance about the gentle, contained strobe cutting through the darkening haze.

I prefer my landscape photos, when the option presents itself, to have a barely-there trace of activity. The weather-hardy walker in this shot almost changed route from where I hoped she'd walk to but got there before I gave up.

Storm Emma was a heavy snowfall for Dublin. As these conditions are infrequent, the city doesn't stock measures to deal with it promptly and everything grinds to a halt for a few days. Bittersweet results follow.

Garnish Island in Cork had a reputation for having a microclimate, warmer than it ought to be. I've no idea of the accuracy of this claim but it did manage to harbour many trees and plants outdoors that I wouldn't normally come across in Ireland. Perhaps it's just a coincidence but I also stumbled on the largest Irish dragonfly I've seen too, which was bigger than my hand. A size I usually only see in warmer countries.

A view from the island, looking back on the coastline of Dalkey, Dublin, through the ruins of Saint Begnet's Church. The bog cotton clouds provided a great contrast to the scenery below.

Furthest in the distance, beyond the peninsula of Dunaff, is Malin Head, Ireland's most northernly point. This was late Summer, when the weather conditions in Donegal pay no heed to whatever season it should be.

This was outside a small gig in a gallery and studio that's sadly no longer there. It was one of those days where the moment just spilled out onto the street for an hour or two as nobody was quite ready to leave.

Image Description