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| Beach Buoy had been at work from 7 am. He works alongside the Tees Transporter Bridge, that crosses over to Middlesbrough. In a previous life he spent over 11 years working alongside the bridge, but on the south side. Now he works on the North side. He travels home via the Tees Road. Over the years has used various form of transport for this journey to the Tees. Car. Motorcycle. Cycle. Bus. Van. He used to Cycle when it was too icy for the motorcycle. Anyone who has tried to Cycle Tees Road on a dark winter morning will know how at risk you would feel. Anyway, today he left work at 3 pm. After a bath, he and Stubborn Dog reached the beach at 4-30 pm. It was bright and breezy. The tide had peaked around half an hour earlier. Small wading birds stood at the Water's Edge; wading. A fisherman stood nearby with an audience of two and a tripod and one rod. He had a hopeful yellow bucket nearby. He told the man and woman stories of the one that got away. The woman seemed more interested than the man. She listened intently with arms behind her back. The man listened with arms folded. Meanwhile the fisherman stood with his hands in his pockets. A couple approached from the south; beachcombers. The lady made sea shell on sea shell noises as she went by. |
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| Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog went to the Grey Rocks and had sit and think that became a sit and nap in no time at all. It was only the thud of the odd large wave that woke him |
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| They did a wobbly walk from the Grey Rocks. The fisherman was just saying farewell to another audience and was waiting arms folded with a "Next!" look about him... It wouldn't be Beach Buoy, Beach Buoy was a very lucky fisherman, but hadn't been for many, many, many, many years.... he had stories of his own. They headed back in the dimming sun. Dried seaweed glowed gold in the setting sun BEACH BUOY. |
