It had been a long day.
Beach Buoy was up at 1-28 am; that was it.
Work from 7 until 3.
He toyed with the idea of going to beach straight after work.
It was warm and sunny and likely to be very busy?
He waited until 5-45 pm; bad idea.
A cold sea fret had blown in, claiming the Headland, Saltburn, North Gare Pier and even the Wind Turbines, all had gone from view.
Two paddle boarders deflated their boards and expectations.
Their partners were on the beach.
One rocked from side to side whilst sat on a beach towel, as if trying to stay warm.
The tide was high, fingers of sea reached on tip-toes to try to be the one that reaches the dunes.
It was cold.
Fingers of Beach Buoy reached into pockets.
Beach Buoy had put two hoods up; it helped.
They went up to stack the stack.
Beach Buoy's jeans and Stubborn Dog's ears flapped in the chilly wind.
They returned to the beach and began to return to the north.
A couple were nearby.
The man had taken his coat off to give to the lady to help keep her warm.
He was both chivalrous
and
shivering.
