It was Friday.
Beach Buoy woke at 5-15 a.m.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off for the beach, eventually.
Beach Buoy was anxious about walking to the stack.
The Swooping House Martins seemed to say "Take care."
It was 6-20 a.m. by the time they reached the sands.
It was likes summer's day.
The sun blazed down.
The Little Terns chattered.
The was a lovely slight breeze.
The Bay's Wind Turbines turned slowly, like a small child's clockwork toy.
A lady with a Spaniel met a man with a Border Collie, they all headed north.
Beach Buoy headed south.
The tide was well out.
Beach Buoy took his time as the walked the flat sand.
A silhouette walked the heights of the dune, checking his mobile phone as he did so.
A very very wet retriever came over dropping it's ball for Beach Buoy to throw.
He did so.
Distant waves were exchanged with the wet dog's owner.
Beach Buoy was limping a little.
The sea sparkled a lot.
They reached the sandy slope.
He took it carefully.
As they sometimes do, dune birds piped them aboard.
They walked the short dune pathway to
Stubborn Dog Stack.
The dune grass seemed taller.
The seed heads seemed heavier.
They bobbed in the breeze.
"Morning Mate, sorry."
It had been a while.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy looked out to sea.
A dogless couple headed north.
A jogger travelled south by the water's edge.
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach.
They took their time heading back.
No rush required.
The sun shone.
It was good to be back.
BEACH BUOY.
