Bottle Bank Teller, Merrion Gates

Our third day of proper spring sunshine. Hazy on Dublin Bay, Howth Head a ghost of its former self. I've always wondered about this bottle bank near the railway gates along the busy Merrion Road. It's a narrow strip, squeezed between the pavement and the railway. Trains rattle past regularly. Sturdy old trees uphold the daylight. There is something slightly mysterious about the place, something industrious but also forsaken. You can drop your bottles through big, round portholes. But what goes on inside? Today seemed like the day to find out.

I hadn't expected much, so was delighted to find my curiousity rewarded. The young guy in the t-shirt was happy to let me photograph him, and seemed happy enough with his task; he was wearing earphones, singing along to something on his i-pod. Apart from the slightly sour smell, the work didn't seem that unpleasant. Not on a day like today, with all those blue and white barrels consecrated with light.