Well it was supposed to be THAT Monday.
The Monday back to work after a long Christmas break.
An extra holiday was needed, as here was Beach Buoy at 7-40 am waiting for the dental appointment at 8 am.
With covid playing havoc with the world, you have to grab appointments when you can.
He had woke at 4-10 am.
He had woke at 5-15 am.
He woke again at 6-05 am and headed for a hot bath.
Dental issue resolved, Beach Buoy stopped as he travelled back to the village.
The tide was well in.
The Sea was rough.
It was around 11-30 a.m. when they headed for the beach.
A strong wind blew off the sea.
Beach Buoy reversed the van into a parking space, so that the tailgate faced the sea and the wind that was blowing across it.
They headed to the access ramp, passing a council wheelie bin that was laid on its side behind the promenade wall as if sheltering from the cold wind.
They walked to the water's edge.
They passed a Dead Seal Pup.
It was a sad sight to see.
A sight that wouldn't be photographed by Beach Buoy.
The Seal looked perfect, intact, as if a sleep, but it was obvious that the pup had passed away.
So sad.
They continued south.
The wind was chilly.
Two hoods were up.
The clouds were glorious.
Back to the north, the village looked pretty with a white fluffy cloud topping.
The Wind Turbines spun quickly out in the bay.
They headed up to the stack to add a few beach stones.
Once more the stack had been partially dismantled.
Beach Buoy rebuilt the stack.
Maybe they wanted stones?
There are plenty on the beach....
Just a stone's throw away.
The wind seemed to blow with more intent, once they had climbed the dune edge.
The golden edged, green rods of Marram Grass leaned in the wind away from the sea as if it was suffering from halitosis.
Although the tide was quite low, the sea still slapped the North Gare Pier as if it were an old friend; it was.
Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog headed back to the beach.
Beach Buoy pulled at some fishing line that was partially buried in the sand.
It was beach cleaned.
Two sinkers and hooks had been concealed by the sand.
They headed to the shingle at North Gare Corner.
Gulls hung on the up-draught from the higher dune edge at the southern end of the beach.
Beach Buoy collected a few bits and bobs of colour.
They were left behind for others, should they want them.
They headed back.
Beach Buoy beach cleaned the above item.
He made a knot on the end of the rope and clipped it to his beach bag.
Stubborn Dog had a new best friend.
Of course Stubborn Dog never shut up all the way back to the van about all the towing training was now paying dividends.
Bright arcs of sunlight scanned the beach like a barcode reader.
The strong wind was grabbing cobwebs by the scruff of the neck and sending then packing.
It was doing a similar job to the clouds.
The sun decided to stay on the beach a while.
Meanwhile a gathering of bad weather headed down the river.
The container and rope went into, the now upright council wheelie bin.
The Dog and a Beach Buoy went into a still upright van.
The items above have been collected from recent tangles of beach cleaned fishing line.
BEACH BUOY.
