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| It was 7-30 pm. It had rained. It had stopped. It had rained. It had stopped. They ventured out, they being Beach Buoy and two dogs. The Holy (Holey) Bucket Tree had been toppled. No twitchers again tonight and possibly no Little Terns. They headed to the water's edge. To the North around twenty Oyster Catchers had had the same idea. It was brighter to the South. Saltburn was bathed in evening sun, whereas the reminder were unified in greyness. |
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| They headed South as a man and his two dogs headed back to the North. One dog was an Old English Sheep dog, the other was one of Poodle-looking dog, you know the ones? Like they had been scribbled with a 2H pencil |
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| Beach Buoy glanced back North.. It was odd as there was a fairly strong breeze from the South West but the birds didn't seem keen to have a free ride. They all seemed to be intent on fly into the breeze... A too quick for camera Seal popped up; then ducked down again. |
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| Beach Buoy day dreamed a little. |
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| Eye up in the Sky. |
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| A Broken Beach Brick. Was it from a wall ? Or maybe from Steps? |
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| Goodnight. BEACH BUOY, |
