Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach
at 6-36 p.m.
It was mild.
It was overcast and a little misty.
It was a dry mild mist.
The Seaton Carew Wreck
(No not Beach Buoy.)
waited for the sea to come to claim it once more
as it has done twice a day for years and years and years.
There were idiots with dogs.
There were dogs with idiots.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south.
By the time they neared
Stubborn Dog Stack, the south end of the beach was theirs.
Beach Buoy added some beach stones.
"Evening Mate."
he patted
THE
stone.
He stood as people stand at a graveside, arms behind back, thoughtful.
"See you tomorrow mate."
They headed back.
There were a few Gulls on the strand line this evening.
They normally prefer to stand at the water's edge.
The strand line was more like Crow territory.
One of the strand line Gulls stretched out its wings, the breeze caught it making it look like a discarded sheet of newspaper.
Someone called Katie had started writing her name on the beach with pebbles.
She gave up after K and completed her name by writing in the sand.
Coffee in the van.
Another Dog leaned against Beach Buoy and fell asleep
Beach Buoy leaned on his arm and fell asleep.
BEACH BUOY.
