Beach Buoy woke at 5-35 am.
He made a coffee and faffed on.
They left for the beach at 6-45 am.
As he locked the front door he could see the red lights of the wind turbines, out in the bay.
He started the engine of the van and drove the short distance to the beach.
They passed a man walking a back dog.
The dog and its shadow looked like identical twins.
They reached the dark car park; they were the first vehicle today.
They headed down the access ramp at 7-02 am.
An invisible aeroplane flew high above them.
They reached the water's edge and headed south.
The air had a chill, a chill that drifted from the dunes to the west.
A blood orange glow appeared to the south.
Hopes of a dramatic sunrise were raised.
It was cold.
Beach Buoy had put a hood up over his wool hat and pulled his snood over his face as if he was about to enter a shop...
Beach Buoy watched the Steel Blue Sea as the socially distancing 7 am club overtook him.
Out in the bay, black dots of seabirds took flight randomly at varying heights.
They looked like notes on some sheet music.
The Sound of the Sea, the tune.
Others sat out just offshore on a clam sea, in the half light,
bobbing about like plastic ducks in a dimly lit funfair.
A couple headed up to a vantage point, high in the dunes and embraced as they admired the beauty of the orange sky and possibly that of each other?
A socially distancing fisherman stood trying to catch socially distancing fish.
He seemed oblivious to the colours to the south?
Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog stacked Stubborn Dog Stack.
It became obvious, once they had reached the Pier that there would be no visible sunrise today.
The promising orange glow, replaced by a disappointing grey.
Beach Buoy scanned the river for a while then decided to return to Seaton Carew, the van and a warm cup of coffee.
A Mermaid cloud accompanied by some Dolphins passed over the Sea Serpent marker.
Beach Buoy looked over to the doomed structures , awaiting dismantling
Back on the beach, heading North.
Lines of sea coal had been left behind as the sea had retreated.
The scene looked like a work of art in progress as the artist tried to decided just where the strand line would be.
They headed back.
They were being watched.
They reached the van.
Coffee time.
Transporter a beach hut in disguise.
Beach Buoy drank that coffee and headed back.
Later ... they returned to the beach.
It was bright and fresh but so much better than just sat, waiting for the day to become night.
BEACH BUOY.
