This morning his arms are now folded neatly behind his snow-white head, his legs stretched out as if trying to recline but not quite succeeding. The sun has suddenly gone silent behind a wandering cloud, but his face still faces the sky, waiting for the cloud to move along. He appears deep in thought. Perhaps he’s young again, with the responsibility of an entire beach on his bronze shoulders where half-naked people enjoy the feel of hot sand under their feet and the taste of the salty ocean. Where no doubt he gazed upon the beauty of women in skimpy bathing suits as they chatted him up but, always, he had a watchful eye on the sea. Where the sun kissed his long blonde hair and bleached it even lighter and it waved with the pulse of the salty breeze.