Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 6-11 p.m.
For some unknown reason, as Beach Buoy made a note of their arrival time in his beach book, he added that it was Wednesday.
It was Monday.
It had been overcast and muggy all day.
The sun was out now, as if to
to justify the heat.
Thankfully, a refreshing breeze blew from the west.
They headed down the access ramp.
A couple with a Labrador were just behind.
They all headed for the sea.
One if the couple threw a ball for their dog.
It galloped passed, scooped up the ball, before running into the sea.
The tide was high.
The beach was narrow.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog paused to let the couple overtake.
They did so.
Beach Buoy watched as another couple headed south on the water's edge.
They searched the scattered seaweed.
They examined a crab pot and seemed to discuss if it was "a keeper."
It wasn't.
They carried on southwards.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog followed on behind.
The sky was light blue.
The sea deep in depth and colour.
Up ahead, to the south, the seaweed search continued.
To the north, two swimmers headed to and into the sea.
Masses of seaweed had been torn up by recent rough seas.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog continued south.
The south was theirs.
Others had chosen a dune route.
Just offshore hook-a-duck Gulls bobbed in the bay.
Beach Buoy gathered beach stones as they headed to Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Evening Mate."
He added the stones
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy sat on a stack stone.
He drank coffee.
The breeze blew.
Another Dog sat sniffing the sea air, her ears flapping.
Marram Grass bowed.
Behind them, the sun hung like a golden disc, just above the dunes.
He sat watching a calm but rippled sea.
Across the bay, the sunlight reflected on the windows of the many motorhomes and camper vans parked up across the river on South Gare.
"See you mate "
They headed back.
A lone figure led the way back north.
The Bay's Wind Turbines blushed pink as the sun changed into it's Pajamas.
BEACH BUOY.
