Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the car park at 6-20 p.m.
Fine rain drifted across the car park.
Beach Buoy slid the van's side door open.
Another Dog was curled up like a cat, on the van's rear seat.
She sniffed the damp air.
She didn't look keen.
Beach Buoy peeled the little dog from the comfort of the van.
They set off.
A jogger passed them as they approached the access ramp.
The jogger ran beyond the ramp as far as the southern end of the promenade.
The jogger turned in an arc, jogging as he did so, before returning to the north.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach as a friendly dog came over.
It was a crossbreedadoodle.
Light Brown in colour.
Lottie by name.
The two dogs did the friendly dog dance.
They walked mid-way between the water's edge and the strand line.
The tide was more in than out, but only just.
The fine rain came and went like passing clouds.
The gloom had claimed the Wind Turbines.
Hints of one or two could almost be seen like a fading memory.
They were ambling along.
A couple with a Greyhound had almost been and gone before Beach Buoy and Another Dog had arrived.
A man in Wellington Boots marched north along the strand line.
He carried a piece of driftwood more like a weapon than beach treasure.
The fine rain was becoming heavier.
A young man in a damp anorak headed north.
He was taking photographs of the damp with a damp mobile phone as he did so.
After collecting a couple of beach stones, they headed to
Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Evening Mate."
he patted
THE
stone.
They didn't stay long tonight.
It was wet.
Another Dog didn't look too impressed.
Beach Buoy pulled up two hoods.
"See you later Mate."
They both walked back with equal willingness.
Beach Buoy photographed the evening's bits and bobs on a wet promenade wall.
