Mist and rain. Shapes appear and fade in the middle distance. Everything is muffled. The only echo is silence. It is a dream, or the memory of a dream. The damp stone pier shines with the dull reflection of the cloud and mist around. The water laps it gently, without rancor, deceiving, hiding its size, the vastness of sea that stretches out beyond the haar that clings to its calm surface. The walker heads to the end of the pier, looks out to the mist and sees what he wants - there is nothing else to see.