Many times a day, people have walked across this bridge in Maine. Most probably have done so without giving the bridge much thought, as tides swell and release from nearby York Harbor.
I could have walked by, too, but the photographer within saw something.
At first I am drawn to the contrast of the iron's seemingly brilliant color to the neutral fog. I start photographing from various viewpoints, eventually walking to the end of the bridge to look back. Moving up and down, side to side, I compose the photograph so that the lines of the iron support beams, in conjunction with the lines of the wooden planks, recede to a focal point in the fog.
Suddenly the image becomes less about the bridge and more about the uncertainty of what lies ahead.
On any other day and through any other pair of eyes, this bridge would look completely different. But on this day, through my camera, the resulting image of vertical and horizontal lines draws the viewer back to where fog engulfs the pebbled walkway, leaving the viewer to ponder.