It was Tuesday.
It was 3-50pm.
Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog headed off for the sea with a slight breeze blowing from it.
The Sea was Slate Grey in colour and texture.
There was some mist.
The Headland could be seen, but Saltburn had gone.
Only a few of the wind turbines were visible, their blades were static.
Not a breath of wind out in the bay, which is unusual.
A family passed with an inquisitive little Black Dog called....
SNOWY.
A hint of blue appeared over towards the headland, but it amounted to nothing.
Beach Buoy found a few finds then left them behind.
They stacked the stack.
They headed back to the north, following a man with his trousers tucked into his socks.
It was almost 5pm when they reached the promenade.
Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog rested on the Promenade wall, watching Birds, people and their dogs.
All with a story to tell, a dream, a fear.
BEACH BUOY.
