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Saturday, 10 August 2019

SEATON SANDS AND NORTH GARE BEACH. 10 AUG 2019.

They had left the house at around 6-10 am.
It started to rain at ...6-10 am.
As they drove to the car park they passed a man in a lumberjack shirt, walking a wolf, it looked like one... Beach Buoy was sure that he
 had seen lumberjacks on tv wearing them....
By the time that they arrived, a rainbow had appeared behind them.
There was no point in getting soaked, so Beach Buoy went and sat in the back of the van and made some notes.
He reached into his Neil Olivier type beach bag and took out his sandy-coloured beach walk note book.
He opened up the book on the pristine table and sand fell out all over the grey surface.
"If its too wet to go to the beach, then bring the beach to you !'' ... Beach Buoy thought.
The rain bounced onto the van.
 They were better off in the van, Stubborn Dog doesn't do wet very well and ends up looking like a drowned rat.

The rain was being helped along by a strong wind from the south west.
Suddenly there was silence.
It only lasted seconds and then the rain and its audio track were back with increased volume and power.
Eventually the rain eased and they made a "Go for it." decision.
Oddly the Sun had been shining as bright as a button whilst it rained, hence the rainbow.
 Now that the rain had stopped the sun went to hide behind some cloud.

As they headed down towards the water's edge, some Seagulls were making a fuss down there. Their calls sounded like children fighting.
A nearby Lone Oyster Catcher blew for full time and flew away.
A man appeared from the south end of the beach, his arms outstretched.
He had two large wolf looking dogs on individual leads, they were trying to head in opposite directions.
Was it a wolf weekend?

Beach Buoy glanced back at regular intervals to try and judge the weather situation and to weigh up the odds of him and Stubborn Dog would receive a good soaking.
One of the glances confirmed that the 7 am club were "In the building." aka on the beach and also gave confirmation of the approximate time.

As they reached the grey rocks the acrid smell of riverside industries wafted across the beach;
it is not always a bed of roses.

They paused to admire the shafts of sunlight that resembled spotlights for a show put on by The Gares; both North and South.

Beach Buoy placed some finds down onto one of the old tank traps.
They headed over the Pier to North Gare Beach.
A blast of stronger wind showed how much protection that the Pier and Dunes had been afforded to Beach Buoy and his awkward walking companion.

They had a wander about.
The tide was out, The Blue Lagoon was drained for a few hours. 
They headed to the riverside.
There was lots of driftwood.
A knot looked like a crocodile's eye, the bark resembled it's skin.

They headed back to the Bay.
The 7 am club had been and gone.
Beach Buoy thought what a good call it was when they stayed in the van earlier.
The raindrops had been large, like water bombs, ready to custard pie you full in the face.
Beach Buoy found another couple of bits..
They followed the tracks of the 7 am club back.
Their footprints and paw prints meandered along the length of the beach and off into the distance.
Footprints vary so much, if you ignore the different types of footwear and just look at the sand.
Are you a flat footer?
A heel digger?
A toe pusher?

Back at the water's edge a seagull was caught out by the in-coming sea.
It gave it a bit of a surprise and it flew away.
It hadn't had chance to roll up it's feathers and go for a paddle in comfort.




They reached the ramp.
Some branches of a dead tree had be planted there a couple of nights ago by two young children.
They were leaving that night as Beach buoy was.
He heard them discuss The Holy Bucket.
One of the kids had said that the other had doubted the powers of The Holy Bucket.
Turns out that it was a Holey bucket; a bucket with a hole.
Hole in the Bucket.

They headed to the van as a Cyclist cycled the promenade with a radio on his handlebars.
They binned the beach clean and headed off.

BEACH BUOY.