I went out to the beach early one morning this weekend. As I wandered along the sand, pulling my skirt up when the waves got too close, I watched the other early morning beach goers.
Four old men came down to swim. They looked an unusual group. One could have been a biker, with long white beard, big muscles and tattoos. One looked like someone you would see in a boardroom of an important company. His hair was short and neat and his board shorts were plain, without crazy prints.
They joked at the shoreline, daring each other to go further, until the biker suddenly ran and dived in. I was fascinated watching them.
Do they often spend time together, or are they meeting up after years apart?
Are they new friends, or did they grow up together?
Are they here for a special occasion, or do they holiday here often?
Every person has a story. Our job is to seek it out.