Beach Buoy had set the alarm clock for 4 a.m.
He was up and out in next to no time.
As he drove past the Golf Club, two police cars left its car park.
One headed North, the other South.
Beach Buoy half expected them both to do a U-turn to see what he was up to; they didn't.
The Barrier to the beach car park was still down; SHUT.
Beach Buoy made good his entry to the closed car park.
A few moments later a security guard came to open it anyway.
4-28 a.m. saw Beach Buoy sitting the van sipping hot coffee as he watched a veiled sunrise take place behind low cloud, that stretched along the Bay's Horizon.
To the south, The Wind Turbines turned slowly as they faced north west, into the breeze.
They always rotate on their axis to face whatever breeze or wind is blowing from.
The rumble of a grass cutter fired up from the direction of the Golf Club; plenty of grass to cut.
An aeroplane left a vapour trial across the Bay's sky.
It headed in the direction of the breeze, like a line drawn on a colourful blackboard to show its direction in some big screen geography lesson.
An estate car drove into the recently opened car park entrance.
The driver and his Dog reached the beach
around the same time as Beach Buoy.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Beach Buoy felt odd being out so early, so dog-less.
He told the story, the dog, the stack, the loss.
"I'd be exactly the same mate."
They headed in opposite directions.
Beach Buoy was feeling like the oldest resident in a care home, the one telling everyone that he met his age.
"I'm 96 you know?"
Beach Buoy isn't.
Sunrise was at 4-28 a.m.
It was 4-47 a.m.
before shadows were cast on the beach as the high tide became higher.
Camelot.
Beach Buoy continued south, the north looked deserted.
5-19 a.m.
"Morning mate."
Beach Buoy added to the stack.
Beach Buoy sat on the dune edge just in front of the stack.
Breakfast; Coffee, Kit-Kat and Paracetamol.
Beach Buoy had a bit of an achey back.
The sea lapped gently onto the beach, no more than Forty metres away from Beach Buoy, the stack and his mate.
Skylarks sang as Sand Martins twisted and turned along the dune edge.
The Sun's early morning heat and light decreased as it slipped behind some cloud.
From Gold to Silver; first to runner-up.
Beach Buoy rose, ready to head back.
He had spent an hour with his mate.
Beach Buoy looked back towards the stack to see he was leaving very strange footprints more akin to those left by a seal as it made its way back to the water.
A very very slow walk back as he passed June Dunes.
Back to the van for spotty sour dough toast, made on the van's spotty
toast maker.
A lady walked from parking meter to parking meter checking for any rejected coins in the machine's coin trays.
Beach Buoy headed off, wondering if next time he should leave some coins in each tray?
BEACH BOUY.
