Beach Buoy woke and rose at 5-40 a.m.
The phone's clock had gone an hour ahead automatically.
He made a coffee for there and then, plus a couple of thermal flasks for later.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 6-38 a.m.
Sunrise was at 6-50.
A family sat on the beach, surrounding a small beach bonfire as they watched the sun come up.
No sooner had the Sun cleared the horizon, the top of it began to enter the low cloud.
The tide was well out.
There was a chill on the air.
Cold hands went into pockets.
Happy dogs were down at the water's edge.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog walked the strand line.
The beach looked very quiet to the north.
They continued south.
The sound of breaking waves to the left with skylarks and a couple of vocal magpies to the right.
The Sun broke free of the low cloud.
The 7 a.m. club appeared in the distance.
Beach Buoy gathered some suitable stack stones as he walked.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy added the stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
They spent some time with Stubborn Dog.
"See you mate."
They headed back to the beach.
The North and South Gares, so close yet so far away.
A cloud that looked like a splash.
They checked Sand Martin Corner; none yet.
They headed over the Pier then down onto North Gare Beach.
Beach Buoy sat on a driftwood bench and drank coffee.
The Pilot Boat thud thuded it's way out of the river.
Snooks Skylarks sand a sweeter song.
As he sat, Beach Buoy recalled a dream from the night before.
There was a Fox, a very calm Fox.
He said " l'm just another type of Dog.
One of those dreams you want to go back to.
Beach Buoy had seen a real Fox on North Gare Beach a few years back.
It ran across the open beach early one morning, looking very exposed as he did so
The light was beautiful.
The morning sun warmed the left side of Beach Buoy's face.
The colder morning air chilled the right side.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog made a move.
Beach Buoy searched the shingle as a ship came into the river with a Tug at the rear guiding it.
A crow watched on from a driftwood post that someone had planted in the sand.
There seemed to be an outbreak of people with little dogs.
Beach Buoy looked up to the Pier.
Silhouettes of people walked its length like slow moving counters on a giant abbacus.
Beach Buoy became a counter himself as he walked the Pier.
" Morning."
"Morning."
A man with a black beard and two brown dog passed by.
Seaton Sands.
They headed down to that beach from the Pier.
They passed the tank traps.
Each changed in its own way from the square that the once were.
Three joggers had stopped just short of the tank traps
They had one dog for company.
They all turned and headed north.
They stopped short of the grey rocks.
The stood throwing rocks, heavy rocks. It all seemed to be part of their exercise regime.
Others travelled at a slower pace.
Back at the van, Beach Buoy drank coffee Others towel dried beach soaked dogs.
An imagined Post Card from Seaton Carew.
Having a lovely time.
Sunny again.
Went out early as beach will be packed later.
Queues at fish shop will be massive.
May take a book and a flask and sit in one of the clock tower shelters.
BEACH BUOY.
