The few families that were on the beach seemed to be leaving at the same time.
The tide was well out.
Beach Buoy chose a line mid-way between the strand line and the water's edge and headed south upon it
The blustery wind that blew across the dunes carried very random drops of moisture .
Every now and then a spot would hit you on the cheek.
Not so many Crabs tonight.
Twists of seaweed captured wind blown sand.
Any dry soft sand had headed for the sea, leaving the beach almost crunchy underfoot.
The sea was wind-rippled but not rough, it did what seas do.
To the south, the fields around Saltburn shone in bright sunlight.
The beach ahead was theirs.
They drifted towards the dune edge.
Beach Buoy collected beach stones as they went.
They headed up to
Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Afternoon Mate."
Beach Buoy added the stones and patted
THE
stone.
The two dogs sniffed around.
Beach Buoy watched as a Small Red Ship which was almost a Boat, headed silently in between The Gares.
In contrast, an unseen Helicopter thudded out into the bay.
Beach Buoy looked to the East, across the dunes.
The sun was partially hidden but it rays spread out, like spotlights on a stage show.
Time to go.
"See you mate."
"Love you."
They climbed down the steep dune edge.
Once back on the beach, Beach Buoy waved to the stack as he does.
The wind blown Marram Grass waved back on Stubborn Dog's behalf.
They headed off, leaving Stubborn Dog once more.
They crossed shingle patches as they headed back.
No finds to write about today.
A passenger jet flew inland.
It whistled like a very large and very powerful kettle on the boil.
A bald man walked south, barefoot, shoes in hand with feet in the sea, head in the clouds..
The sun showed up.
Beach Buoy's long, late sun shadow tried to reach the sea too.
A group of three people with two dogs headed south.
A white Dog.
A black Dog.
In contrast to their monochrome pets, the people wore the brightest of coats.
One Red.
One Yellow.
One Blue.
