Traces of light

There is a bridge upon a lake. In winter before the last year I had taken a night shot under the bridge. In the spring of last year, they had put the iron fences around the lake, letting dry of the water in order to sweep away the mud on the bottom of the lake. After the mud had clean away in the spring of this year, they poured back of the water, so the birds came back afterward. I came back also to the bridge, in a day time, to take some pictures of the piers of the bridge.

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