He wears a loose red-and-white checkered button-down shirt that, mostly unbuttoned, flaps in the breeze against his sand-colored khakis. His stride is distinct, feet dragging slightly, which leaves a unique footprint pattern in the sand. It takes many minutes, but the old man covers a lot of ground?at least a mile?and eventually disappears around a bend.Ī man and woman appear, going in the opposite direction. From a distance, one might mistake them for teenage sweethearts, but this man and woman are most certainly middle-aged. They walk arm-in-arm for a few steps, the foamy surf flickering at their feet. The man whispers something in his wife's ear and she is seized by hysterical, uncontrollable laughter. Giggling, the woman begins to tickle her husband, who suddenly joins her in laughter so intense they both gasp for air. After a moment, the couple recovers, walking along the beach again, toward the late afternoon sun. They put their arms around each other, but cannot seem to get close enough. Eventually, they give up walking and just embrace, the surf lightly lapping at their ankles.Ī little girl in an oversize maroon t-shirt kneels at the water's edge, building a sandcastle under the watchful eye of an older woman, her grandmother perhaps, who constantly reminds her not to go any further into the water. It is prudent advice, as there is often a strong undertow in the waters off Popham. Prudent or not, the grandmother's nagging is too much for the little girl. She splashes her grandmother, who is mightily displeased and has no qualms about sharing her feelings. The grandmother stops scolding, perhaps shocked by the cold water and then, suddenly, lightly splashes the little girl. After a moment they are both all wet and all smiles.Ĭertainly Popham attracts such a diverse crowd because people find it pleasant to spend a day at the beach, sunbathing, reading, swimming, walking, or kayaking.
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