Beach Buoy woke at 3-13 a.m.
He laid knowing that sleep had headed off for the day with a pillow tucked under its arm.
4-12 a.m
The van kettle was lit.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog were parked at the beach car park.
It was light.
The street lights were already off.
Beach Buoy made a coffee.
A car that had been parked up when they had arrived, drove off.
Beach Buoy sat sipping hot coffee as he looked at the bay.
There was low cloud on the horizon.
The due sunrise would be taking place, behind closed doors.
Beach Buoy had cracked open the van's side windows.
A rush of air crossed inside the van
There seemed to be a strong breeze from the south.
Oddly the Wind Turbines in the bay seemed to be idle?
Beach Buoy drank his coffee and for once waited for the sun to come to him; he was idle too.
Patience paid off.
It was 4-49 when the sun cleared the low cloud.
Boots were put on, an orange coat too.
If it warmed up later, he may look slightly overdressed?
The words of his long gone Father drifted around the van as they left for the beach.
"If you take a coat, you can always take it off. You can't put it on if you don't take it with you."
They paused on the promenade.
The belated sunrise was in direct line with the Little Tern Area Fencing.
They headed for the beach.
A figure headed south with a dog and the sea for company.
They headed south too.
The tide was slightly more out than it was in.
A large ship, left the River, passing the still idle wind turbines as it swung around them before heading south, down the coast.
They continued south, choosing a strand-line path.
Beach Buoy stuffed his hands into his pockets.
His head was full of yesterdays.
Beaches walked.
He imagined a beach, one like that baseball pitch in the film Field of Dreams.
Imagine a beach that you could visit with those who had gone.
They would climb down a sandy slope from the dunes.
Join you for a walk and talk.
Back to reality, but reality was fine.
The sound of Gulls to the east, Skylarks to the west.
The gone weren't coming down a sandy slope today.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog climbed one to visit one of them.
"Morning Mate."
He patted
THE
stone.
He four placed recently collected beach stones in and onto the stack.
They stayed a while with poor old Stubborn Dog.
"See you mate "
They headed back to the beach.
There was still beach access to Sand Martin Corner.
Beach Buoy noticed some Sand Martin were on the beach.
It was a rare sight.
They usually go from flight to burrow, he had never seen them on the actual beach before.
It looked like adults with their fledglings?
Then. .
A Richness of Sand Martins.
Beach Buoy watched the wonderful show.
The sun reflected onto the wet sand, alongside North Gare Pier.
World War Two Tank Traps marched off into the dunes as if off to find a battle, as none has come to them.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed back.
Walking, not marching.
The 7 a.m. club passed in the distance.
Distant waves were exchanged.
The very very wet retriever did cross the divide.
It stopped a few feet short of them before politely shaking itself from nose to tail.
The dog ran back to the water's edge.
As they reached the end of the walk, the distant wave lady waved from the water's edge.
A wave which was returned.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed back to the van.
To the north of the car park, a fun fair had set up . It has been there a good while.
BEACH BUOY..
