Beach Buoy and Another Dog dropped anchor
at 6-20 a.m.
It was around twenty minutes to sunrise; he faffed.
He drank coffee.
Another Dog snoozed, she was a Lhasa Apso; by no means
an early bird.
A lady docked alongside in a White Range Rover.
She and her two dogs headed for the water's edge.
Another White Range Rover pulled in to the car park.
A Dog-less couple stepped ashore, bags in-hand.
They be beachcombers they be, shipmates.
A couple nearby inflated paddle-boards.
One blue and black.
One orange and white.
The boards, not the couple.
A man with a small black dog interrupted their inflation process by enquiring about car park charges.
Query answered, he headed for the dunes.
The paddle-boarders set off for the sea, a colourful board under an arm each.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog were on the beach by the time of the alleged sunrise; the faintest of brief glows, through a tear in a blanket of cloud.
It was mild morning.
There was a pleasant breeze from the south west.
They headed south.
A massive hole had been dug in the sand.
It looked like the Dune Dragon had slept on the beach overnight?
Beach Buoy was going to have to watch out.
There was more and more signs of the Dune inhabitant venturing out into the open beach.
He wasn't a real dragon of course.
No one seemed to know what it really was, but names can stick and dragon stuck.
Beach Buoy passed a dead Razorbill on the strand-line.
Dead birds were being washed up right along the north east coast recently.
They headed up to
Stubborn Dog Stack.
Beach Buoy added seven small stones to the stack.
Another Dog climbed on top of the stack and cried.
It was no surprise, she had cried and had been carried much of the way there.
"Morning Mate."
he patted
THE
stone.
They sat down on the dune edge.
Beach Buoy watched the light change out in the Bay.
It reminded him of messing on with the contrast button on the television as a child.
Another Dog was keen to go.
She would walk back to the van eagerly.
She was still reluctant to walk to the stack; like she'd seen a ghost.
Maybe she had.
In a way Beach Buoy hopes she had.....
"See you mate."
(IF ONLY.)
They set off.
They dawdled back to the north.
People and dogs were few and far between.
There was spotty toast to make.
aka
faffing.
Beach Buoy had brought two thermal mugs of coffee.
Later that day.
He walked the promenade.
Someone was having a sit and think.
He walked the high ground once more above the ex tip site.
It was like having cliffs at Seaton Carew.
Beach Buoy.
