It was Friday.
It was 3-35 pm.
It was Grey.
Beach Buoy reached into the van to tempt Stubborn Dog out.
As he did, a couple dressed in hi-viz clothing rode along The Promenade on a Tandem.
The Tandem made them more noticeable than any brightly coloured clothing.
Like when you see someone driving at night when they have forgotten to put their lights on.
'Look at that idiot!'
No lights, but still spotted a mile off.
You see some things coming, others you don't.
The sky looked a little like a paint company's selection of greys as they looked for the next fashionable one.
Then there's a name to pick too.
The tide was well out.
There was the slightest of breezes from the East.
The Wind Turbines were turning lazily, like out-stretched arms during an early morning yawn.
The sea wasn't rough out in the bay, but the waves were breaking about 200 metres from the shore.
By the time sea reached sand, it was all a white foamy busyness.
Beach Buoy picked five beach stones to add to Stubborn Dog stack.
As they headed towards their marker, a dog as big as the Hound of The Basket-fillers. Came bounding across the dunes.
Beach Buoy dropped the stones and picked up his little beach mate.
The large dog sniffed around, slightly puzzled.
Stubborn Dog did his Spit the Dog act and growled and barked at the big hound.
Stubborn Dog is never scared by bigger dogs.
Beach Buoy just picks him up to save any issues.
Eventually the hound followed its lady owner to the waters edge.
The stack was stacked.
They headed back.
The light had all but gone.
The lighter grey sky to the west of the dunes, had been replaced by the orange glow of industrial Teeside.
Later, Beach Buoy tried to do the blog.....
