Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 5-16 a.m.
It had been a muggy night.
There was a breeze from the west.
It felt like the first cool fresh air for days.
The Bay's Wind Turbines all seemed to face Beach Buoy, as they spun slowly but constantly.
The horizon glowed.
It was around thirty minutes of so since Sunrise.
The beach was empty of folk.
Excellent.
They began a slow walk southwards.
The clouds to the west were splendid.
Beach Buoy paused to make some notes in his beach notes beach book.
A small black fly landed on the white page.
It moved around like a full stops with legs, then one with wings.
It was gone.
"Good." thought Beach Buoy, "He was always finishing my sentences for me."
A red-hulled cargo ship headed out to sea as a Little Tern flew south along the water's edge.
Mr.Magpie, Sorrow to his friends, picked at the dune edge.
The breeze picked up in strength.
It was gorgeous.
It was 5-55 a.m.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy took a drink of coffee from a thermal flask.
He sipped hot coffee as a Richness of Sand Martins provided an air show.
Some painted stack stones had been shuffled around.
A number of those in the photograph were done by others.
Beach Buoy had brought a paint pen.
He righted a few wrongs before adding them to the stack.
"See you mate."
They headed back to the beach.
The ship turned to head south.
Sand Martin.
🇺🇦
On a slow walk back, the passed a hurrying 7 a.m. club.
"Morning, must push on."
"Morning."
Gone...
Down in the strand-line, Mr.Magpie had been joined by his wife, Joy.
In the distance a very very wet retriever sat in the sea.
Obviously just not damp enough just yet.
They reached the van as clouds ran out to sea.
Beach Buoy sat in the van a while, just because he could.
BEACH BUOY.
