Sunday.
It was 5-52 a.m.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off for the beach.
The tide was well in.
The sea was wild.
Beach Buoy could see that Ted the Terrible was to the south.
Beach Buoy collected five suitable stones.
They headed south.
The strong breeze from the north helped them on their way.
A Northerly Breeze shaped the sands.
It bent the dunes grass
Gulls passed overhead.
They hung in the breeze.
Beach Buoy gained some height.
The birds lased by.
Almost close enough to touch.
Four fishermen headed along North Gare Pier.
Maybe not the best of ideas.
A bird battled it's way northwards.
A Curlew?
Beach Buoy and Another Dog walked the low level route.
The four fishermen.
One headed back to safety.
The others followed.
They stopped to talk to a new arrival.
He seemed to decide that the risk was worth it.
Others arrived.
They decided that the Pier was not for them.
Not today.
The seat at Sand Martin Corner.
A spectacular view today.
Another fisherman tried the Pier and the waves for size.
Sand Martin above a stormy sea.
Beach Buoy was pleased to see the Sand Martins.
He thought that they had gone for this year.
The Lone Fisherman.
The previous one must have taken shelter?
Shortly afterwards he decided to head back.
He joined others, south of the Pier in the safety of more dunes.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed back north.
They too chose the safety that the dunes provide from a stormy and unpredictable sea.
After a while they dropped down to check the situation on the beach.
The dunes still felt like the better option.
Up on The Esplanade, Beach Buoy could see that some of the Little Tern Nest Site had been claimed by the sea once more.
To the north, sea swimmers went in to the rough sea...
Paul.
