Waltzing Down the Pier
A lone figure in a long coat walks the South Haven pier, the lighthouse small and distant at the end of the line. The wide-angle view stretches out around her — open sky, quiet lake, and the rhythmic repetition of lampposts guiding the way.
There’s a softness in the stride, a sense of ease in the moment. The scene feels less like a destination and more like a dance with the breeze — graceful, unhurried, and quietly full of presence.
A lone figure in a long coat walks the South Haven pier, the lighthouse small and distant at the end of the line. The wide-angle view stretches out around her — open sky, quiet lake, and the rhythmic repetition of lampposts guiding the way.
There’s a softness in the stride, a sense of ease in the moment. The scene feels less like a destination and more like a dance with the breeze — graceful, unhurried, and quietly full of presence.
A lone figure in a long coat walks the South Haven pier, the lighthouse small and distant at the end of the line. The wide-angle view stretches out around her — open sky, quiet lake, and the rhythmic repetition of lampposts guiding the way.
There’s a softness in the stride, a sense of ease in the moment. The scene feels less like a destination and more like a dance with the breeze — graceful, unhurried, and quietly full of presence.