It had been another long day.
Beach Buoy had been awake since 3-30am.
So at time of writing, this means about 5 hours sleep in over 60.
Bed soon....
The car parking charges started locally today.
It is free after 6pm.
Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog arrived at 6-04 pm
A lady who beach cleans regularly was just about to leave her car with her white scottie dog .
The dog has a hatred for shitzus, but is OK with Lhasa Apsos.
She has checked a few times over the years, just what breed Stubborn Dog is.
The lady was last seen yesterday, half dragging, half carrying a bag of rubbish from the dunes that seemed to be as heavy she was.
There was a couple down by the water's edge.
Beach Buoy headed for the sea as the couple and their two dogs headed south.
The tide was well in.
A cold wind was from the north east.
All of the bay's Wind Turbines turned to look at what all the fuss was about.
It was one of the days when the sun was constantly coming and going as the clouds drifted by.
The light shone in patches.
They headed south on the water's edge.
The sporadic sunshine shone where it chose, or where the passing clouds decided.
A Bright Green Ship entered the River Tees.
The Gares looked like an odd pair of arms welcoming it.
The South Gare was bathed in sunlight, looking like a t-shirted arm on a summer's day.
The North Gare in contrast, looked like it was wearing a black wooly jumper.
The litter pick lady and her white dog appeared on the dune edge, juggling bags as she did so.
The couple that were ahead were resting on a large driftwood bench.
The smaller of the couple, laid up against the other, like a falling tree looking for support and perhaps a little shelter from the wind?
The temperature seemed to drop.
Beach Buoy checked back to the north.
The light had changed.
Rain on way?
The sea was choppy.
White Horses galloped across the bay like an ocean point to point race.
The tide seemed to be in two minds about coming. going or peaking.
It was a short walk from the water to the stack with freshly sea washed, still damp stones for the mound.
First hint of rain fell on Beach Buoy's face.
It didn't stay.
It was just a trailer for a film that went straight to DVD.
Gulls were hanging on the up-draught that the dune edge provided.
Every now and then they would circle and begin to fall in a spiral, like draining bathwater.
All hands lost with HMS Soap.
They headed back.
Yesterday someone had spelt out
HAPPY
on the beach
with stones.
The tide and time had claimed some.
Now it just read
HA.
A Book-sized beach clean.
TAPROGGE BALLS.
BEACH BUOY.
