I was lost to my thoughts immediately and with the greatest of ease. This spot had always been a family getaway, and I felt such comfort whenever I walked on the firmly bolted wood of the pier standing over the dark water beneath. 

The sun had totally disappeared, and the cool wind found only my face uncovered, providing a refreshing respite from the warmth of my many layers. 

I sat at the edge of the pier and started to untangle my lines. My dad sat next to me, already about to cast his bait into the blackness of the lake. The dark water seemed to absorb each reflection of light the full moon and accompanying stars provided, yet the wind seemed not to disturb the stillness of the surface. What did disturb the surface, however, was the soft splash that my dad's sinker made as it pierced the surface and sunk into the unseen depths. 

With lines cast, we waited, my dad patiently feeling for vibrations to denote any nibbles from the creatures in the dark. The silence between us spoke not of malice or animosity, but a comfort in our bond, and the respect we had for the nature around us. My dad turned to me and smiled as he carefully tugged at the rod with an expert measure. 

We sat there for what seemed like hours, though it could have been as short as a moment, with the soft padding of the gentle water hitting the supports of the pier in a rhythmic and inevitable way. I found my mind drifting to the beat of the water, content and relaxed. My fatigued eyes gave way to desire, and closed softly.

I awoke with a jolt, the abyssal night sky giving me no indication to how long I'd dozed. My line was taut, but the optimism of perhaps catching a fish was quickly lost when I realised I had snagged myself onto the pilings below.

"You were always a better fisherman than me" I jested to the silent expanse in front of me.

The ripples of the lake continued to quietly batter the weathered pier, ready to do so for many generations to come, as I packed my gear and left alone.