Whilst out for our daily walk we wandered a slightly different route and went over the bridge that spans the water at the edge of the dock. I took this "from where I stand" picture through the gaps in the bridge to the water about 15 feet below.
When my children were much much younger we went swimming every weekend, hail, snow, sleet or sun we dressed appropriately, wandered off to the pool and had some fun. Back in the day it was acceptable for one adult to take three children under eight swimming on their own.
Too get to the pool we had to cross over a slatted bridge, the type you could see through with gaps in the slats, and every week we had tears at this point as daughter No2 use to run on ahead and jump and thump and yell her way across the bridge as noisily as she could yelling at the troll to wake him up (think Billy Goats Gruff) which would leave daughter No1 howling and greeting cos she was now terrified to cross the bridge in case the troll came to get her. Sadly there was not an easier way to get to the pool without a massive couple of miles extra diversion, and when your walking that is not feasible.
Still to this day it is a family joke where daughter No2 will stamp her way across a bridge and No1 still hates to cross them, with or without her sister there.