Flying south, the usual blur of airports and work ahead of me. Then Rainier appeared out of the window — massive, silent, impossibly close. A reminder that even routine travel still offers these small moments of clarity if you bother to look up.
Montpellier, early evening. My son skipping in the long shadow cast down our street, just before the city settles into dinner.
Jardin du Trocadéro, Paris — on a warm spring afternoon.
Early spring in Montpellier, in three small moments.
Two moments from Dublin around St Patrick’s: a crowded pub window where reflections mix with the street, and a quiet corner outside Sheehan’s as the day settles. The city shifting between celebration and its usual rhythm.