Beach Buoy was back at work, back into auto pilot.
His alarm is set for 5-10 a.m. on work days.
He woke.
Shut, thick curtains ensured that it was still dark.
He reached for his mobile phone to check the time
5-09.
It changed to 5-10 whilst in his hand.
The alarm sounded.
Beach Buoy went to work.
It was 6-20 pm when Beach Buoy and Another Dog finally reached the beach car park.
They had trundled down Elizabeth Way behind a Ringtons Tea van.
It had been a sunny day but as Beach Buoy had drove back from work he could see the sea fret rolling in.
They headed down the beach access ramp, a family were up ahead with their dog.
They walked close by.
"We've left the ball in the car."
Beach Buoy reached into his beach bag.
"Here's one, l find them on the beach all of them time."
"If you are sure?."
He was, just as long as they don't bump into a very very wet retriever asking questions about the ball.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south.
A couple with two dogs, headed north towards Beach Buoy and Another Dog.
One of the dogs; Max was very pleased to see Another Dog.
A brief chat took place...
The sea fret out in the bay looked fabulous.
The tide was high.
Beach Buoy took out his beach note book.
A new beach note book.
There never is any of the new book hesitation when it comes to his scribbled beach note books.
Where sunlight had penetrated the sea fret, it lit up in patches on the beach below.
The light looked like careless splashes of bright paint.
The couple and their two dogs; Max and a very wet and sandy spaniel headed off towards the village.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog continued south.
The narrow beach ahead was theirs
Sea became sand and sand became dune.
As they walked, Beach Buoy could see the sea fret roll in down the river.
The sea fret had claimed most of the bay's wind turbines.
Beach Buoy cherry picked some suitable beach stones for
Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Evening Mate."
He placed the beach stones around the stack.
He patted
THE
stone.
Another Dog was given a dog treat as Beach Buoy sipped hot coffee.
He looked out to sea.
The heat of the sun on the back of his neck, refreshing sea fret air in his face.
Two ladies cut through the dunes from the south.
They paused to read some of the pet names on painted stack stones.
Beach Buoy watched as the mist rolled in to claim the dune dwellers.
The fret rolled onto the beach.
"See you mate."
They headed back to the beach.
A slow walk back.
