Phoenix Park
Phoenix Park is often a short-cut, avoiding the troll-bridge where the M50 crosses the Liffey - seemingly Dublin's way of lining private pockets with everyone's spare change. I'm never in that much of a hurry so avoiding it with a detour like this feels more like it is breathing an extra 15 minutes of life into my day, rather than removing it. Time well spent.
Of course it's more than 15 minutes, because I stop to take photos. I love the trees in winter, bare branches reaching for the sky, often ivy-wrapped (though less so in the park, where they are more carefully tended). Nothing to get in the way of the watery sunlight. So different from where I grew up, with most trees carrying their leaves year round and the forests more dark and mysterious.