Finally, a trip to the beach. Ahhhh. It happens less frequently than you would think. A crowded Sunday.
And here was this handsome German fellow waiting his turn at the showers…Actually, there was a lineup going, kind of like the surf lineup when they wait for waves.
Here, he finally gets his turn:
And check out this little guy, wondering if it’s okay to share a shower with a dog…
There is an undefined… something… about living in Hawaii. People find themselves at home in their own skins, loose, and yes, more laid-back. Dogs too, apparently.
This beach-dog guy could take all comers (and there were many, many dogs there that Sunday. All breeds, shapes and sizes.)
Shouting to be heard. Strutting their stuff.
But Beach Dog was too cool for that. Basically ignored all the others.
He couldn’t see anything but the beach. He was the beach.
Zen – dog.
And can I just say? Surfers are not the mellow dudes people think they are. It’s a zoo out there and they are all fighting for the same wave.
When you live on an island, you come to understand. The insularity. The restlessness. The need to have a fluid sense of identity.
When you live on an island you can ignore the mainland, shrug your shoulders as if to say I’m not having that, thank you.
Until there’s a hurricane. A war. A gas crisis.
But until then. Bliss…
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