The dock stands worn and decayed, a relic of forgotten struggles. Every plank and peeling board speaks of men and women who have toiled endlessly, their labor etched into the wood. The lobster traps, stacked in disarray, are more than tools—they are symbols of a relentless struggle for survival, as if each one pleads with the sea for mercy.

Above, gulls circle indifferently, their cries piercing the stillness like distant echoes of lost souls. The water ripples gently below, reflecting the fragile balance between nature’s calm and the ceaseless turmoil of human existence. A fleeting shadow falls across the dock, reminding us of life’s transience and the inevitability of time’s decay.

The crumbling market building hints at a past full of life, now reduced to a faded memory. Yet, in the midst of this quiet resignation, there is a quiet resilience—a determination to endure, even in the face of despair.