For reasons that are as yet unclear to me, I have recurring dreams about the DART. The DART is the commuter rail system in Dublin, and I often dream I am on a lime green train car that is snaking along from Connolly Station to Tara Street Station at rapid speed, then from Tara to Pearse Station, then Pearse to Grand Canal Dock. In these dreams am hurtling along a line through a place that is both Dublin and Not-Dublin, in that odd dream-logic. Here, in this photograph, is one of the unassuming railway bridges that this supposed magical vehicle of transport passes over. In person, it's just an ordinary railway bridge. There are drops of rain dripping from the dark overpass and cans of Bulmers crushed on the ground. There's no special magic to it. I look with a casual eye on the yellow sign with the No. 116 and the warning below: "If bridge is struck by vehicle please telephone Iarnrod Eireann" and wonder if anyone reads it, let alone heeds it. And I try to connect that ordinary black and yellow checkerboard arch, that network of hanging electrical wires and branches, that real life bridge with the bridge I pass over in my dreams.