The nut seller had clearly decided the crowd could wait. Some behind him caught his attention and the crowd passing in front wasn’t buying his roasted nuts.

The Luas reflects the images of people who are waiting to cross the road on O’Connell Street, Dublin a few weeks ago.

The mannequin is spying on you. It’s not just Facebook.

Proving that the recent heatwave is (still) the exception and that it sometimes rains in June in Ireland. It didn’t last long. By the time we came out of Cornucopia the ground was dry and the sun was shining again.

We saw The Cure at Marley Park on Friday night. After driving up from Cork that day I should have been wrecked tired, and I dreaded the heat, but there was a breeze and the stage provided shade if you were close enough. Visitors weren’t allowed to bring “professional cameras” so I left my Sony…

The roses lean out of their black plastic pots like they’re craning for a better view of the customer, and she’s giving them a proper once-over, but what I noticed was the tote bag so floral it could be for sale at the flower stall.

The poster girl gets the beach, the dunes, the perfect light and a 30% discount; the actual shopper gets a footpath, a purple handbag and a too-warm day in the town.

I think he was double parked, probably waiting for someone and reading the newspaper on a cool March afternoon in 2021.

The boardwalk pulled me straight in. Those weathered planks running across the dark volcanic sand towards a sea gone smooth from a long exposure, like the Atlantic had decided to hold its breath for me. Playa de Ajabo at dusk is a different beast to the postcard Tenerife of packed loungers and factor-50. This was…

Fingers loosely laced, a thin ring catching the light and that small contact is the whole picture.

A wall of glass tilt over your head and you start to feel very small, very corporate and very much in need of a strong coffee. This is the WeWork office in London. Look closely and there’s one warm pendant lamp glowing in a window, a tiny pocket of cosiness in a tower of cold…

The man in the red jacket became my anchor the moment I set up. Henry Street on a sunny day is a river of people. Shoppers, buskers’ audiences, lads cutting across to Gino’s for a cone, and a slow shutter turns all of that into smears of colour and ghostly half-people mid-stride. But he just…