Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off for the beach on foot and paw at 4-02 p.m.
There was a clear blue sky directly above.
To the west, faint white clouds formed a mackerel sky.
They reached the beach car park, minus van at 4-14 p.m.
They passed the fine and dandy cycle rack.
Tap tap tap sounded out as they passed
The Hungry Seagull as more coffee was prepared.
They joined the bright promenade and headed south towards the access ramp.
A shadow of an overhead Gull cast a crow
onto the paving slabs below.
High tide would be at 6-31.
The beach would be narrow.
Beach Buoy opted for an earlier, wider beach.
They headed south.
Tangles of bladder wrack seaweed looked like mermaid's air bubbles caught in a moment in time.
Two ladies with two dogs headed south along the strand-line.
They turned 180 degrees when only half way along the dune edge, choosing to head back to the north.
It was such a bright afternoon; sunglasses bright.
Perhaps too bright for the camera on his cheap phone, filtered or not.
Once again Beach Buoy was fighting that inner rush.
Beach Buoy slowed down.
He selected some suitable stones for
Stubborn Dog Stack.
They headed up the sandy slope that led way to Stubborn Dog.
Wind-blown sand raced ahead of them.
"Afternoon Mate."
Beach Buoy laid the beach stones into carefully selected spaces in the stack.
He patted
THE
stone.
He looked around.
The Dune grass rippled in the wind from the east, like a sea of green.
"See you mate."
They headed back to the beach.
The dune edge grass shied away from the sea.
They headed to Sand Martin Corner.
A man with a rucksack had passed them, heading south now ahead of them.
A drained beach pool made it look like a giant had headed south too!
The strong wind had grounded The Sand Martins; no air show today.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed back to the north.
Sometimes Beach Buoy looks up, watching the clouds, making sense of the shapes.
A different imaginary world sails above us all daily.
As they walked back, Beach Buoy did the same with drained rock pools.
This one looked like one of those "Ancient wall paintings of animals.
"A cave painting."
Others see a parrot.
The tide was beginning to reclaim the beach.
It put an arm around the North Gare Pier as if it were greeting an old friend.
Beach Buoy began his beach clean.
He picked up a white hard plastic bottle.
The wind blew into it, making a forlorn sound, similar to the Sea Serpent's mating call.
A figure approached in a big wind-flapped coat.
The figure veered to the right, disappearing into the dunes as it did so.
Sometimes, when the wind is off the sea, helium balloons can be blown ashore.
Today was no different.
Beach Buoy collected three beach cleaned
balloons on his way back.
Each had a ribbon attached.
Happy Mother's Day.
You'll be missed.
The other, just a faded, sea shaded cartoon.
A man in hurry overtook them.
They dawdled along behind
BEACH BUOY.
