Beach Buoy had turned up at work a little early.
He parked up the VW Transporter in front of The Tees Transporter Cafe.... just because.
The last three mornings had seen him
wake and rise at
3-28
3-20
3-15....
Wide awake.
Work was done...
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed down the beach access ramp to the sound of the village church bells ringing out for 8 p.m.
In fact it was only
19 58,
Kennedy was still alive and nobody had heard of The Beatles.
The tide was way out.
A strong wind sent dry dune sand, snaking out to sea.
High above the dunes hung a June Moon.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south, midway between the strand-line and the sea.
The soft wind blown sand had stuck to the wet, tidal sand.
It crunched underfoot as he walked.
It was like walking on snow that had been frosted overnight.
The wind was strong. Beach Buoy glanced back to the north.
The shifting bands of sand could be clearly seen.
Out in the bay, at a random spot, a cloud of Gulls gathered.
A distant feeding frenzy was taking place.
A lady in bright RNLI Yellow coat, headed north at the water's edge.
She had a black dog and a brown dog.
Up in the dunes, teenagers sat in a dip.
The over exaggerated voices of the young men in the group drifted out to sea, carried by the wind. No one was listening.
They continued south.
As the walk progressed, the wind seemed to drop?
It may have been the height of the dunes offering some protection?
Whatever the reason, the south end of the beach felt like another different day.
Beach Buoy gathered six stones for Stubborn Dog Stack.
They went to the sandy slope up to the stack
Recent footprints had been helping as a walk-worn staircase.
Today's shifting sands had returned bit to sandy slope status.
"Evening Mate."
Beach Buoy added the stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy stood, enjoying the heat of the very late evening sun.
"See you tomorrow mate ".
They began a slow walk back to the north.
The light was completely gorgeous.
The wet sand in untouched by shifting sands, mirrored the available light.
Guilty Gulls lined the water's edge, facing the strong wind like criminals finally facing up to the truth.
Back at the van, Beach Buoy gave Another Dog a drink.
The village church bells rang for 9 p.m.
In fact it was
20 58
Beach Buoy and Another Dog had joined Stubborn Dog up at the stack for a good few years by now.
BEACH BUOY.
