#Old Dublin

[jareckiworld]

Harry Aaron Kernoff (1900-1974) — Anglesea Market  [oil on board, 1933]

[streetsofdublin]

THE CABBAGE PATCH NEW STREET GARDENS AND CATHEDRAL LANE

The park, which is referred to by Dublin City Council as the "Cabbage Patch", can be reached by way of Cathedral Lane (until 1792 called Cabbage Garden Lane).

THE STREETS OF DUBLIN The Cabbage Garden, also known as the Cabbage Patch, is a former burial ground in Dublin, Ireland. It is located off Upper Kevin Street in Dublin’s south inner city. Used as a cemetery from 1666 until the 1890s, it is now laid-out as a public park. The name of the plot can be traced back to the arrival of Oliver Cromwell in Dublin during 1649, whose forces rented the land…

[allthingseurope]

Dublin Castle, Ireland (by Lisa Fecker)

[burgerputty]

8:11 ponies

[selcouth-vast-poet]

soem old sketches i didd sometime ago

[virtuosicstudyblr]

Some moody Trinity Vibes™️ featuring my landlords‘ cat. || 04.08.2023

[cherrybreakfast]

dublin castle.

photos by me. (10)

[unisucksbutohwell]

23/03/24

Homesick but bringing a book makes it easier

[ciaraloves]

latest update on my portrait of dorian gray collection

[thiefbird]

We are once more reading JSTOR for fanfiction purposes: I gotta know how long a medical degree took at Trinity in the 1790s For Reasons

[siena-sevenwits]

LOOK at the last paragraph of "The Dead" by James Joyce. I can't stop coming back to it over the years. Read it out loud - every word crafted to be so soft, so soft, even onomatopoeic. The story is not a favourite of mine. But this stormin' paragraph. The way the opening words can't help but tap rhythmically, popping with little "p" sounds... And there's no sound in this story, not till this paragraph, because it's a story about people who never listen, and in the end something has shifted in the main character, and he can hear the sound of snow...

"A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead. "

[streetsofdublin]

HALLIDAY SQUARE

Halliday Square is a little sliver of parkland at Arbour Hill, populated by ornamental trees and shrubs and surrounded by terraces of both old and new red-brick houses.

[omg-hellgirl]

Keith Richards posing with Ronnie Wood's dog — a Great Dane — in County Kildare, circa September 1993. Photo by Duncan Raban.

[nineartsdesign]

Vintage boards

[borisyvain]

Charles and Sarah relax in the grass behind his house on a rare sunny day ft. very slightly anachronistic but thematically appropriate reading material which I literally didn't even remember was out of place until like 2 minutes ago 😑 perils of writing historical fiction ig

[johnnyslittleanimalblog]

Roaring lion by Tambako The Jaguar Via Flickr: