Beach Bums

I admit that it is unusual to live with binoculars always close at hand, but living on the 14th floor of a condo makes it practically a necessity, what with checking in on what our neighbors in adjacent high-rise condos are having for dinner … no, no, no, just kidding, we would never actually spy on our neighbors as long as they weren’t doing anything interesting. What I meant is that there is always something going on around here and being so high up means some optical enhancement is a helpful addition to better observe our surroundings.

Regular readers know of our fondness for watching the wildlife, and our butts are planted firmly on the lanai every evening for the sunsets (a rare 10 on the Timometer scale the other night). But being at the beach – and remember this is Florida, after all – there is nothing quite like people watching, one of our favorite pastimes.

We really enjoy watching the critters in the sky and sea, but the beach-based critters in all their glory are a sight to behold: struggling to put up umbrellas, wearing the latest in European bathing fashions, the hustle and bustle down the beach at the big luxury chain hotels as every morning a beehive of activity erupts as guys rush around setting up a line of beach chairs and umbrellas, carting out the jet skis and sailboats to rent, and chatting up the guests.

Then there are the yoga classes on the beach just after dawn or at sunset, the tractor raking the beach, the shellers collecting huge bags of what will become rather pungent mementos since people insist on taking (against all the rules) tiny but live Florida conchs. There are the stereotypical old guys (but also women) swinging metal detectors over the sand and in the water, people jogging and walking in a constant stream of humanity, fishermen casting and reeling and occasionally catching, kids doing cartwheels because they’re young and they can so why not, the weddings with the groom in shorts and the bride in a soon-to-be wet white dress because of course you have to have pictures of the happy couple kissing at the seashore as the water laps at your feet.

One day I saw a woman who I guess was meditating because she was standing perfectly still on the beach for a pretty good while without even a phone in hand. Another day we saw a man walking down the beach playing air drums to music only he could hear.

One evening a couple released a miniature hot air balloon, complete with flames, into the darkening sky where it floated up and out to sea. (I learned it is actually called a sky lantern and you, too, can Google it to see what one looks like.)

A landscaping crew at the condo next door spent several days trimming a mass of sea grapes, but they did it while standing on ladders while impressively hacking away endlessly with machetes, the steady whack-whack sound a nice accompaniment to the usual whine of lawn mowers and weed eaters and leaf blowers that, unfortunately on an island that is beautifully landscaped in tropical flora, make up much of the auditory background.

Then there was the mass gathering two nights in a row of a hundred or more people down the beach. They came out and stood stock still in rows for 15 minutes or so, then moved in unison down closer to the beach at dusk. We thought it might be some kind of zombie apocalyptic gathering, or a political rally, which is pretty much the same thing, but we were told later that it was probably a religious event, perhaps appeasing a sea god or praying for mermaids to appear or some other supernatural mumbo jumbo.

So, yes, we are people watchers. We enjoy observing people and their foibles, their odd habits, their individuality, their uniqueness. Humans are endlessly amusing and entertaining, but we’re not laughing at them so much as we’re laughing with them. Okay, we are laughing at some of them, but c’mon, you can’t just thrust a beach umbrella into the stand like a spear on a windy day and not expect it to blow down the beach.

All these things and all these people make up the atmosphere and charm that is the beach. We love it so: the sand between our toes, the cool dive into the water, the warm sun, the soft sounds of lapping waves, the palm trees swaying in the breeze, the salt air, the languid pace, the relaxing vibe.

It’s what will warm our hearts as we head home for the winter ahead.