The woman alone on the beach—uh oh, I see on closer examination that she isn't alone. Someone is sitting right next to her. 

I always enjoyed going to the beach alone with a book and a sandwich. During the summer, circa 1970, I had the day off work in the middle of the week. It was July and I decided to spend the day reading on the beach in Santa Monica. I packed up my beach chair, the latest bestseller, a sandwich and a drink. It was going to be heaven. In those days you could actually drive across town from Glendale to Santa Monica in less than an hour. At 9:00 a.m. I was all set. The fog had just lifted; there were a few people on the beach, scattered here and there. I nestled into the sand and began to read.

After about half an hour of bliss, a man carrying all his gear—blanket, chair, cooler—walked over to three feet away from me and spread out his blanket. What? I thought. There's a whole empty beach here, but the guy had to get into my space. Just as I was thinking of getting up and moving, he took all his clothes off and ran, stark naked, into the water. I gathered my things to get out of there, fast, when I heard a siren. It was the lifeguard in his beach jeep. He called the man out of the water and walked him back up to his clothes. The man didn't speak English—I couldn't make out the language—and seemed puzzled and alarmed. He pulled on his clothes and the lifeguard walked him back to his car. Nobody said a word to me. I sat back down and enjoyed the rest of the day. 

I've never forgotten that man and his predicament. I concluded he was probably a European tourist accustomed to swimming naked. And I've thought about myself as an uninformed tourist, stumbling around in foreign countries, probably being unwittingly offensive now and then. Fortunately, my cultural faux pas never set off alarms. Not yet. 

In the prompt photo, I hope the man sitting next to the woman is with her, as in her companion, and not a naked stranger, as was my experience.

I have no sepia photos to match the prompt, only a memory. But here's a couple of beach photos. 

Richard, almost alone, in Santa Monica. About 1970.

Goa, India, before the crowds. 2012. 

Better late than never.....see the on-time Sepia contributions at Sepia Saturday