Sandpipers and Sun Worshipers

Intermittent rain showers had beach goers racing between wide expanses of sand and the shelter of awnings and overhangs.

Whenever a band of showers ended, ever-optimistic sun worshipers would scurry back to the beach. Guided by their own shadows men and women of all ages would carefully orient their pastel beach towels and striped beach chairs to the angle of the sun. With a sigh of relief they would settle themselves comfortably and, convinced the day had cleared once and for all, begin to doze.

Alas, the much anticipated sun-induced naps were thwarted time and again by a chilly drizzle that somehow reached the beach before the clouds could block the sun.

With cries of dismay, the beach folk would scoop up towels and blankets and fold them into bundles on the run.  These people who had so thoughtfully spaced themselves apart on the beach would pack shoulder to shoulder beneath storefront awnings and hotel overhangs saying they had had enough.  Yet when the sun next broke through they would again scatter on the sand.

I couldn't help but compare the perpetual migration to sandpipers skittering along the water's edge, racing to and fro in response to the ocean's surge and retreat.