Beach Buoy woke at 3-07 a.m.
It was 5-27 when Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach.
A toasted teacake wrapped in silver foil and a thermal mug of coffee were consumed.
5-48 a.m. they headed for the beach.
Beach Buoy was wearing:- two hoodies,a wooly hat, gloves,snood and an old orange coat patterned by history.
All three hoods were up.
The tent on legs and his trusty sidekick headed for the water's edge.
There was a slight but very cold breeze from the south.
A full fat moon watched from above the car park as they set off.
The tide was going out.
It left a blank canvas behind, waiting for the day's artwork of feet, boots, paws and hooves.
The village still slept.
Another Dog led the way.
A moon and a net float.
Gulls cried.
Beach Buoy sighed.
It was 6-07 a.m. when the Sun cleared the horizon.
Beach Buoy stopped to watch the sun come up.
No matter how many times viewed it's such a scene to behold.
Treasure each one as though it will be your last.
One day it will be.
It was their sunrise today.
The rising Sun headed for low cloud.
A ship left the Tees.
They headed up to
Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy added some stones and patted
THE
stone.
He sipped hot coffee.
He was wearing fingerless gloves.
His hands were very cold.
The gloves seemed to be making things worse.
They were removed and placed into the beach bag.
Beach Buoy gave Another Dog a dog treat.
"See you mate "
They continued heading south.
The Sun cleared the low cloud.
The 7 a.m. club walked the beach to the north.
Beach Buoy paused.
He listened to two invisible but vocal skylarks as he looked at the sea
He loved this.
This time of day.
No one needed him.
No one wanted him.
He didn't have to be anywhere else.
They crossed over to North Gare Beach.
They walked the edge of the blue lagoon.
They walked the river edge.
Beach Buoy went out of his way to beach clean a white safety helmet.
As sometimes happens the beach repaid him with a nice find.
He wouldn't have spotted it if he hadn't clambered across rocks to gather up the helmet.
It was s beauty.
Up on the top of the river side rocks, s high tide had left a driftwood bench with an excellent vantage point.
Riverside rock pool.
Structural driftwood.
Would look perfect in that little garden, in that little cottage by the sea.
They turned and returned to the north.
Over the Pier.
Seaton Sands waited down below for them.
Eggs.
They were piped aboard by the sound of Skylarks and the rumble of riverside industry, Sunday or not.
They headed back to the north.
Back to the van.
They bumped into Dottie Dog and mam along the way
They were just setting off.
An imagined Post Card from Seaton Carew.
Having a lovely time.
Going to go for a Sunday Lunch today.
Nice Pub on the front and it's not a carvery thank goodness.
If the budgie needs more food, it's under the kitchen sink.
Tell him he's a good boy from me.
That afternoon it was coffee in the van with a view across the fields to Seaton Carew.
BEACH BUOY.
