copacabana

on the beach there are endless rhythms to adjust to. the waves of the ocean carrying people and holiday debris in and out. the waves of beach vendors, miles-hardened muscles, peddling clothes, food, drinks, suncreams, holiday essentials in styrofoam boxes. the waves of heat that wash over you, bringing you in and out of consciousness. the waves of children with the mini-storms they bring with them. the clockwork motion of the professional sunbathers, lathering creams and ointments, turning themselves like bbq steaks, plastic cups at the ready for that all important cooling water. the hypnotic rhythm of tropical beats.