The slender European stood sentinel at the water’s edge one foot barely touching the base of a black lava boulder, the other steadying himself against the shifting sand. Wave after wave broke ashore turning soothing colors of turquoise, aqua and finally sea foam green. His short red swimming trunks were marked with a tiny striped flag, no doubt proclaiming pride of his native homeland. As he raised his hand to shield his timeworn eyes from the reflecting sun, he squinted at the horizon. Following his gaze, I saw a tiny silver-haired pinhead bobbing up and down on each incoming wave. This Old Man of the Sea who radiated wisdom and experience stood there protectively keeping watch on his cherished partner, the love of his life, as she slowly and methodically swam toward him.

A speckled rooster crowed as he strutted around the beach chairs with head held high acting as though he were “King of the Island” and we were all expected to clap our hands in applause at being in the mere presence of him. Slowly and methodically a hunchback wiry old man with a weather-beaten brow sauntered toward the cedar shelter, his gait slow, wearing nautical swim trunks. A full-face snorkeling mask was dangling loosely around his neck. Each step reminded him of how he had taken his vitality and physical strength for granted only a few years ago. The crashing waves of high tide seemed more of a challenge this morning than he initially thought.

Cooling sea breezes, palm trees swaying, a sandy shoreline under a cerulean blue sky. A bikini-clad toddler with a pixie cut races across the beach in hot pursuit of a red-combed rooster while Nana follows close behind recording the adventure on her cell phone.