Beach Buoy and Another Dog arrived at
6-25 p.m.
It was still foggy.
It was still and foggy.
As they wandered down the access ramp, a couple of paddle boarders were coming up.
They headed south.
A family brushed a large dog at the water's edge.
Large clumps of sandy coloured dog fur lay on the beach.
A young lady passed by as she headed north on the strand-line.
She had a shawl wrapped tightly around her.
She reminded Beach Buoy of a character in some Victorian drama.
He half expected her to say
" It's bleak upon the moor tonight sir!."
The drifting driftwood "shipwreck." was still high and dry.
The tide was high.
The sea was grey.
It was edged with the blackest of seacoal.
Mourning in the Evening.
They headed up to Stubborn Dog Stack.
The headland had been claimed by the fog.
"Evening Mate."
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
It began to rain.
"See you mate."
They went back to the beach.
It was proper rain.
A not so slow walk back.
Beach Buoy fought the
"Inner Rush."
He paused as rain fell.
He recalled the words of Mr.Cowley.
"Once you are wet, you can't get any wetter "
He got wetter.
They headed back to the van.
Sanctuary.
Proper rain.
BEACH BUOY
