Part of the becoming better and returning to work was the ability to get up and out early on a morning.
Memories of not being ready to face the world until 2-45 p.m. were not that distant; an hour trying to one sock on.
Beach Buoy isn't one for long sleeps at the best of times.
Now that he has been a little uncomfortable, then three hours is classed as a night's sleep.
He had gone to bed late, by 2 a.m. sleep still hadn't showed up.
Beach Buoy turned on the beside lamp to give his seven, repeat seven pillows a damn good talking to.
Next thing he knew it was 5-20 a.m. the bedside light was still on.
Oddly, as often would happen, 5-20 a.m is the time that his alarm goes off on work days.
"May as well give it a go." thought Beach Buoy.
By 5-51 a.m. he had made it to the beach car park.
By 6-00 a.m. he was almost at the water's edge.
The smooth wet sand was better for walking on, with a sore achey leg.
It was his first early morning beach since he had become unwell.
Familiar beach goers were there.
The distant wave lady and her Mother.
Their Dog, a rescue Dog from Greece decided not to stay distant.
He came bounding over to Beach Buoy.
Beach Buoy held out opened arms.
When the Dog saw this it was obvious by the increase in tail-wag speed that the dog was glad of a welcome.
Beach Buoy gave the Wet Dog a good scratch and stroke.
He headed up to the stack.
"Morning Mate."
He placed a few stones onto the stack.
He patted
THE
stone.
He headed to the dune edge, just in front of the stack.
He took the gamble of sitting on the soft dry sand.
He still lacked a bit of confidence on his ability to be able to stand up, especially on the soft, slipping surface.
He took the lid off his thermal cup and drank coffee as if he was dying of thirst.
It must have only been around 6-30 a.m. but the heat of the Sun was making its presence felt.
The slight breeze that was barely blowing from the south west, across the dunes did nothing to cool the morning beach; just warm air on the move.
To the South, Motorhomes were dotted along South Gare Pier.
To the North a few more people were populating Seaton Sands.
Beach Buoy managed to stand up.
He gave Stubborn Dog a not too distant wave.
"See you later Mate."
Beach Buoy headed North.
The 7 a.m. club were a little early.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Mari the Poodle came running over as if to say
"Where have you been?"
Beach Buoy gave her an extra special welcome and double neck rub.
Beach Buoy rested on the Promenade Wall.
It still wasn't quite 7 a.m.
It was Hot!
A lady cycled by, heading South.
Beach Buoy heard a clatter but could see nothing.
The lady stood up, she had fallen off, her fall hidden by the height of the wall
"Are you O.K?"
"Yes, l'm fine, I tried to turn around, but forgot the bike had a fixed wheel."
She mounted her bike and headed back to the North.
The Little Terns were as active as they were vocal.
The Cone was one of many which mark their nesting areas.
There are two different but almost adjacent sites this year.
Beach Buoy relaxed in the van for a while, then headed back.
Then it was cycle time, must become fitter.
He cycled to the end of the Promenade once more.
He chatted to a fisherman who had turned up.
"There was Salmon and Trout jumping out of the sea yesterday, about twenty foot from the Pier."
They discussed surnames of Middletonians from years gone by, then the man disappeared down a precarious looking collection of man made sea defence blocks with a fishing rod in one hand.
"That Pier is too busy for me." was his parting shot.
"That Pier."
was
Middleton Pier.
Fishermen tried their luck from various positions.
The gauge on the side of the Pier shows the height of the tide.
