cobblestones under feet

In a rubber playground littered with cigarette butts and surrounded by cobblestones, the children laugh and play. They climb, they jump, they dance! “Watch me!” they shout. Tourists eyes are glued to the ground as they descend out of their bus and bounce their suitcases over the stones to their hostel across the way. Clad in business suits, men and women stroll home from work, their bags swinging freely. A football is kicked around between the rows of houses and apartments. The shop is full of local Dubs and foreigners just like me grabbing the few things they need for the evening. The cafe is full of people at their leisure basking in hospitality. Jameson tower stands proudly in watch. The tall modern lamp posts wave their salute. Brick, stone, concrete, glass and metal. White skin, brown skin, freckled skin.

The evening air is full the music coming from the mouths of the youth. The morning brings a hush and drone of vehicles as the city slowly wakes up.

I love this city in the sun. I love it in the rain. I love it when it is grey and clouded over. I love it when the sun breaks in the west and rainbows appear in the east. Whatever the weather, these cobblestones come under feet of young and old. Beautiful, beautiful people.

2014-05-08 16.42.32-1

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