Beach Buoy woke at 4-35.
He headed downstairs.
He faffed on.
He made coffee to go.
5-20 a.m. they reached the beach.
The air was damp and still.
Wind Turbines stood idle in a breathless bay.
It had rained overnight.
Four people stood at the water's edge.
Most probably disappointed sunrise seekers?
The four headed back to the promenade.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south along a seaweed strewn strand-line.
The aroma of seaweed always takes him back to a childhood holiday in the Isle of Man.
Heading back into Douglas on a summer's day after a low tide had allowed the sun to bake seaweed for hours on end.
Hugo appeared.
He gave the big dog a welcome.
In time the distant wave lady and her daughter approached.
"Hiya, we came for the sunrise."
She laughed.
They chatted briefly about dogs.
Then headed in opposite directions.
He headed up to the stack.
"Morning Mate."
He patted
THE
stone.
It was 6 a.m.
He added six beach stones to the stack.
He thought thoughts.
" See you mate."
They dropped down to the beach, heading south alongside the grey rocks.
The 7 a.m. club passed at a quicker pace.
"Morning Paul."
"Morning."
A found hat ....
It reminded him of a 1913 post card that he has from Seaton Carew.
A lost hat story
Her nice hat, blown out to sea.
They watched the Sand Martins.
Whispered conversation.
The 7 a.m. club were already heading back.
The sun brightened slightly.
It was still hidden but provided excellent reflections.
Free as a bird.
🇺🇦
More Gulls passed.
Looking the various stages of flight.
A very very wet retriever ran back to its owner after a North Sea top up.
It then ran off squeaking a yellow and blue scooby doo ball.
A couple headed south as Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed North.
Milky coffee and ridge-monkey warmed croissants.
BEACH BUOY.
