Parking the GTS in Reid's huge parking lot, I hobbled down to one of several beaches that make Reid one of Maine's most popular spots for a day by the sea. The day wasn't perfect - note the cloud, which was the only one up there. Foolish to complain about it, though.
It was just after nine, and few people had arrived. I noticed one lady sitting in a beach chair and watching the sea rather intently.
Quite suddenly, the object of her focus appeared in the surf.
Dragging a Styrofoam paddle board, the elderly and oddly-hatted gent approached the lady in the sand.
I was too far away to hear their conversation, but their body language spoke loudly and brusquely:
"Horrible technique - why don't you give that board to one of the grandchildren before you kill yourself."
"Didn't you realize you were getting flipped out there?
"Look - I'm the one in the water, so please allow me to do it my way!"
"Unless you have any useful advice, I'm going out to catch another wave."
("I hope she missed this awkward little maneuver ...")
"Good - steady - don't lose the wave ... "
"Oh my goodness - I'm Brian Wilson. If only I could sing ... "
"Come on out, sweetie - there's room for two on this board!"
"Too late - the surf is fading. But you were just wonderful - really!"