Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 7-44 p.m.
It was as sunny as a summer's day.
They headed down the access ramp.
A lady metal detectorist scanned the beach nearby.
She was no relation to Bishop Brennan.
Another lady was leaving the beach with her friendly Jack Russell.
She spoke on her phone as she walked.
"Yes, the French class "
There was a welcome breeze from the south east.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south.
A man in a baseball cap and a hurry, headed north on the strand-line as he talked on his mobile phone. His non-phone arm swung from front to back as he walked and talked.
The sky was clear
The sea was navy blue.
The sun shone down on large flat sandy bank in the dunes. Hundreds of footprints peppered the golden sand. It gave the area the look of planished copper.
They crossed patches of shingle.
A few pottery pieces were scattered around.
Beach Buoy's sunshine shadow walked ahead, cherry picking all of the best ones.
Beach Buoy wouldn't put up a fight
After all his sunshine shadow was much taller than he was.
Beach Buoy and his sunshine shadow collected some beach stones for Stubborn Dog Stack.
They climbed the sandy slope.
They reached the stack.
Dune birds sang for their ears only.
Beach Buoy added the stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
"Evening Mate."
Beach Buoy watch as the tide edged it's way out.
"See you mate."
They headed back to the beach.
They began a slow walk back.
The sun shone.
A Little Tern worked water's edge, dropping like a stone as it spotted its prey.
The end of the walk approached.
A young headed south on the strand line.
He was wearing bright white headphones.
It looked as if he had been hit by two out of season snowballs.
BEACH BUOY.
