A world compressed in a walk

At the start of today´s morning walk: a young girl, maybe 4 years old, wearing a knitted white cap with two pointy white rabbit ears on top, dancing through the streets behind her mother, with every step lights flickering in the heels of her shoes. At the beach: a young man coming out of the sea fully dressed and wearing his shoes, completely soaked, noisily joining his three laughing young friends who give him his jacket after which they wander along the boulevard, make fun of one of the sandcastle builders and get into a fight with him. On the market square: the woman I see there almost every morning, her snow white hair perfectly styled, bright red lips, manoeuvring around the tables and chairs with her wheeled walking aid to join her friends. A second version of her appears from around the market building, blond hair, lips in the same shade of red, the same eyes, the same nose, a similar walking aid. They are both in their eighties, if not older. They start shouting at each other from a distance and I am not sure if they are arguing or if this is how they always talk to each other, the result of a lifetime spent together. The one seated gets up and very slowly joins her sister. Fifteen minutes later they appear again, now both carrying a small supermarket bag. They walk across the square silently, the sun lighting up their hair.