It was an evening visit.
They arrived at 6-29 p.m.
The wind was from the south.
A young family made their way down the beach access ramp.
Dad reached the sand and rotated the pushchair into a pullchair as he dragged it across the soft and stoney sand.
Half way to wet firmer sand,
he left the pullchair duties to mam.
He wondered around kicking stones as though the pullchair was nothing to do with him.
The tide was a canny way out.
The evening had a faded watercolour look about it.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south into the headwind.
Charcoal couples led the way.
A man with a Beagle walked the water's edge.
A cloud and a half hung over the dunes.
Beach Buoy headed up to
Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Evening Mate."
He added some recently collected beach stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
After a pause it was...
"See you mate.'
They returned to the beach.
A tug waited in between The Gares for an incoming ship.
Another was just inside the river mouth, they would guide the ship safely into its berth.
They headed back with a tailwind.
Two hoods went up.
More as shelter from the world than the wind.
A man was up ahead, searching the shingle.
Beach Buoy glanced across as he passed.
Anorak.
Gloves.
Face fully covered.
Boots.
For all Beach Buoy knew it was a snooks ghost heading back in a borrowed modern outfit?
As the walk was coming to an end, Beach Buoy took two hoods down.
He needed to hear an unmuffled sea once more before leaving.
Some recent Bits and Bobs.
BEACH BUOY.
