For the second morning running Beach Buoy woke
at 4-18 a.m.
It was 5-28 a.m. by the time Beach Buoy and Another Dog arrived at the car park.
It had rained overnight.
It was dull start to the day.
The arrival of a ship had to try and make amends for the non appearance of the Sun.
Venus and Jupiter were supposed to have made an appearance too.
Instead of being side by side in the sky, they both rattled around in the same pocket of a cloud grey overcoat.
They headed down to the sea.
Three hoods went up.
It was an Orange coat type of day.
They headed south on a blank canvas of beach, each making their mark.
A parcel of Oyster Catchers flew towards the river.
The kept low to the sea.
Another parcel followed.
Like the seven dwarves, they whistled whilst they worked.
Beach Buoy had noticed the the Land Rover Border Collie Couple had headed to the beach.
They had chosen to go north after descending the access ramp.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south.
Beach Buoy looked up at the clouds, finding faces and animals floating around in the sky, ever changing.
The sea serpent was up and about.
Up above the dunes, the Skylarks sang accompanied by some unidentified guest artist.
Beach Buoy gathered some beach stones.
He headed up to Stubborn Dog Stack.
A piece of sea pottery stood out as he had collected the stones.
It went into the beach bag.
Bubba was a duck from Australia.
He was such a character.
He passed away on Saturday.
Beach Buoy added an assortment of stones.
Bubba, those just collected plus a couple from Crimdon for Stubborn Dog to know were they had been.
They waited a while.
"See you mate."
They headed back down onto the beach.
Beach Buoy spotted another nice piece of sea pottery.
They headed back to the north.
Sand Martins worked the dune edge.
Beach Buoy paused as he often does
He looked out to sea.
A Gull surfed the waves
The 7 a.m. club approached.
"Morning."
"Morning, beautiful isn't it ?"
They chatted.
Turns out that people had been surveying the height of sand, loss of the dune edge.
They went their separate ways.
Up ahead, a beachcomber worked the beach.
The beachcomber was the yellow wellington boot in summer plumage. Not a yellow boot in sight.
The tide was heading out.
Little Terns chattered in the distance.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed back to the van.
Beach Buoy chatted to a member of the 7 a.m. club near to the access ramp.
Beach Buoy put milk on for a coffee.
He watched the Promenade as he waited.
Coffee made.
Coffee drank.
Another Dog was next to Beach Buoy, curled up like a cat.
Beach Buoy pulled up a hood, rested on a hand and nodded off for twenty minutes or so.
Time to go.
BEACH BUOY.
