A tourist beach runs on the people who work it, and most of that work is walking. The sellers cover miles of sand a day, carvings and shell necklaces slung on a pole over one shoulder, reading each row of loungers for who might buy and who to leave alone.
I shot them from down the beach with the long lens, which is the coward's way and the only way that keeps it honest, not a transaction, just people at their jobs against the water. The woman was the one who was not selling anything. She stood on the low dune in a dress brighter than the whole sky and simply looked out to sea, which is why she leads the post.
All on the 135, base ISO to 800 as the afternoon went. The other side of the postcard beach: for most of the people on it, it is not a holiday, it is the route to work.