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June 23, 2009
I was away from home for our neighbourhood bonfire this St. Johnsí Eve, I spent a warm evening in Dublin, wishing I was under open skies and sunshine in the west.

I was staying near the Gate Theatre, and was tempted to see a play by Arthur Miller, but I felt the great golden sun would not easily forgive the insult, and instead I walked the pavements, feeling the radiated heat of sunsoaked stone.

I do not know the north inner city well, so I walked the route I would drive in the morning. Eldest sons leave nothing to chance.