It was 6-25 a.m. on a Saturday.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog parked up, facing the North Sea.
Moments later a silver Vauxhall Corsa van parked alongside.
The driver and Border Collie co-driver headed along the promenade.
Beach Buoy went to the opposite side of his van, to fetch Another Dog.
99 starlings sat on the promenade wall, watching as they faced a breeze from the west.
Another Dog is becoming more like Stubborn Dog everyday.
She didn't want to budge.
Putting her harness on was like trying to put a coat on a reluctant toddler.
She made herself as floppy but as heavy as possible.
"Seconds away, round two."
They headed for the access ramp.
As sometimes happens, the 7 a.m. club were just leaving.
"Morning Paul."
"Morning Paul."
"Morning."
"Morning."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to the water's edge.
The tide was well in but going out.
Dots of Gulls and dashes of seaweed wrote a strand-line message in Morse code.
Beach Buoy glanced to the west.
A very very dry retriever was heading towards them was was it's owner.
Beach Buoy returned the squeaky scooby doo ball that he found a couple of days earlier.
The dog left it's tennis ball to the owner.
Off it ran towards the sea, squeaking as it ran.
Shoreline Gulls took to the sea as did the dog.
The now very very wet retriever was sat in the sea, squeaking the ball
The Dog and the Gulls #teamwet.
It was an overcast but mild morning.
One man and a dog headed north.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south.
Someone was having a toxic looking fire towards the town.
"Have l broken his record?"
Another Dog was being quite stubborn today.
Beach Buoy took opportunity to stop, sip hot coffee and study the sea.
He watched as three bright white birds rose from the sea; Gannets.
He watched as the three large birds flew south, dropping like stones into the sea as they went.
The grey sea and sky seemed to make whiteness and presence of the birds more impressive.
A small red ship headed towards the river and a single tug.
They continued south, water droplets drifted in the breeze.
Beach Buoy looked up towards the sandy slope, that leads inturn to Stubborn Dog Stack.
Sand Martins worked the dune edge.
Their rise and fall similar to that of the highs and lows of the dunes.
"Morning Mate."
It was a seven stone day.
Beach Buoy added the stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He sat on a large stack stone.
The light grey stone showed signs of spots of rainfall.
Beach Buoy plonked himself down.
He drank coffee.
He gave Another Dog a dog treat.
As he sat, a Tern went directly overhead.
It was low to the dunes, heading into the dune system.
It hadn't spotted Beach Buoy.
The bird had a tiny silver fish grasped in its beak.
It wasn't a Little Tern.
Beach Buoy had no idea what type of Tern it was.
There was a chance it could all end up with another
"Pebbles with legs." situation?
Bird with fish.
Whatever type it was it seemed to have young waiting somewhere beyond or in the dunes.
"See you mate "
Rain had began to fall.
They headed back slowly.
The rain was ok.
Beach Buoy hadn't brought a coat.
That was ok too.
Others didn't mind the rain too , as they began their walks, in their space.
Back at base camp, Another Dog wondered if it had all been a dream..
BEACH BUOY.
