The metal slabs of the pier crackled and snapped beneath
our feet as we stepped out upon the water. An icy gust whistled across the
expanse, making our eyes water and our fingers miss the shutter key. Ghostly memories
of mirror-still water and tired fishermen -- their boats bobbing lazily in the
reeds -- drift through our minds like afterimages. Our little pier sits alone
-- now too frozen to dismantle by people that were too busy to care.
That was our backdrop for pictures this evening.