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| Beach Buoy had been to work. He wasn't going to go to the beach. He went to the beach. With Stubborn Dog riding shotgun they pulled into the car park around 4-06pm. Scattered across the centre of the car park were the tell-tale signs of someone who had been to a very well known burger outlet drive through, more like drive threw. A line of seagulls stood, balanced on the low tubular barrier that edged the tarmac of the car park. The air was cold and still and the afternoon was bright. The breaking waves were around five deep as the sea was quite rough. The tide was far enough out to expose the beach end of the Seaton Carew Wreck. |
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| The afternoon's colours were pale. |
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| Beach Buoy watched the waves for a while. A jogger passed close by slightly behind Beach Buoy. The jogger seemed to be running on his toes a little? The sound he made on the sand as he jogged by, reminded Beach Buoy of a puffing steam train, off in the distance travelling to some seaside destination. |
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| Beach Buoy is not an expert when it comes birds. He thinks that it was three Sanderlings that he saw quickly dashing through the sea water that was left on the beach after a breaking wave had broke and returned to regroup. They were so quick, six wet feet dashing excitedly. Beach Buoy thought their bird call should be "Hooray." They could call it out as the ran from one spot to another. It would raise a smile. A couple of couples with a couple of dogs wandered in their own space. Beach Buoy continued South, every now and then turning towards the dunes to avoid a rush of incoming sea water. Splash! He was caught by the water; just wet feet, no danger involved. Needless to say Stubborn Dog was wet too. Six wet feet squelched their way back to the van. A white terrier stood with its head tilted looking towards the pair, maybe puzzled as to were the unusual noise was coming from. It was coming from six wet feet. BEACH BUOY. |
