Beach Buoy laid in bed.
It was 6-20 am.
It was Monday.
It was a day off.
He listened to the outside world from the darkness of the bedroom and the mugginess of dream just gone.
Seagulls argued in the distance.
'This time next week.' thought Beach Buoy.
'This time next week l will be driving to work, wondering where the days went to.
It was 7-08 am by the time he went downstairs.
The neighbours across the street had left their flashing white Christmas lights on all night.
It was still dark.
They flashed brightly.
Each flash of light accentuated the frost on the roofs and windows of nearby cars and vans.
The road and pavement sparkled as if they were diamond encrusted.
Beach Buoy filled the kettle then flicked its switch.
Stubborn Dog had found a suitable cushion and had curled up like a cat called six.
Beach Buoy had recently changed pencil grade for his Beach book notes.
After a few days he decided that 3B was too soft, as was an earlier selection.
He sipped coffee as he inspected his pencil collection...
'2B or not 2B... that was the question.
He did some trial squiggles.
He decided to give HB a go.
He placed his choice in his Beach Book.
It had a dual purpose; pencil and a book mark.
The van was frozen.
Beach Buoy cleared the windscreen and went back for Stubborn Dog.
The dog made his usual tilting Teddy Bear sound as Beach Buoy picked him up before placing him the cold white van.
They reached the car park around 7-50 am.
A young couple unloaded a child and a pushchair from a nearby car and set off along the Promenade, Coffees in hand.
Beach Buoy walked down the access ramp to the beach.
The sand had a frozen crust which broke under his weight.
The tide was well out, so far out in fact it looked as if it intended to rejoin the EU!
Out in the bay the Wind Turbines were motionless in the cold still air as if frozen like the van had been.
Beach Regulars milled around
The Border Collie couple.
He exercised the dog, as the lady filled her bag with treasure.
The two stick, tall man couple, headed back to their estate car.
It was 8 am when Beach Buoy heard blood curdling screams from the north.
Swimmers were off into the sea.
The sea steamed slightly in the icy air, being warmer than the air was at present.
A jogger and his Border Collie ran south, overtaking Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog as they did so.
They passed by another jogger / dog combo heading the other way.
The second combo was a jogger with sausage dog.
The little dog's legs struggled to keep up.
It was a cold, fresh and glorious start to the day..
The sea water steamed like a cauldron down by the Pier.
They came across some worked driftwood, shaped to fit somewhere perfectly many years ago.
Beach Buoy picked up seven beach stones and headed for the Stubborn Dog Stack.
There was a defined strand line.
The untouched side of the line told a story a million footprints.
As Beach Buoy crossed that line, it became clear that it had been colder down this end of the beach.
The raised edges of the sunken footprints stayed rigid.
Beach Buoy climbed the small incline to the stack location carefully, as usual Stubborn Dog did all he could to avoid going up into the dunes.
They stacked the stack.
Beach Buoy returned to the beach as carefully as he had left it and..... as usual Stubborn Dog did all he could to avoid going back to the beach!
Monuments.
The Sun gave a hint.
Beach Buoy found some Bricoculars.
Found Beach Colour.
Beach Buoy loved these found beach colours.
This was a piece of broken wall.
Driftwood can sometimes have beautiful colours, if it had come from a brightly painted beach chalet, cabin or perhaps a boat.
A wall in "THAT." shack would look great in that!
Sea glass on a tank trap was another found colour.
Gorgeous.
Beach Buoy beach cleaned this dangerous, double-hooked but attractive fishing lure.
They headed back in a milky atmospheric light.
A dog appeared.
A dog as big as a wolf.
A dog as white as a polar bear.
Beach Buoy scooped up his tiny mate.
'Sorry mate.'
shouted the owner.
'He's only six months old and curious.'
It was stunning dog.
They chatted a while about dogs and dog related incidents.
It was all cool.
The wind turbine had began to turn ever so slowly by now.
It was as though they had been turned on to disperse steam from the sea's surface.
They passed beach Crow who was moving for no one.
Another piece of old worked driftwood.
'Wonder if a wreck is breaking up?' thought Beach Buoy.
If so, who knows what may wash up in the coming days?
Two horses and a tiny pony walked down near the water's edge.
Back in the van, the windscreen had frozen over once more.
Beach Buoy.
