Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off on foot at 4 p.m.
Their sunshine shadows came along for the ride.
Earlier Fog had burnt off.
As they meandered down towards the beach, birds seemed to chatter excitedly.
It was mild and bright.
The tide was well out.
There was lots of space.
Excellent.
Random Oyster Catchers seemed to call to one another as they headed to the dunes, alone but together.
Three Retrievers seemed to gallop by in slow motion.
It was both calm and calming.
It was so peaceful.
It was the slowest of walks.
Too nice to rush.
Out in the bay, a slight mist hung.
Only nine of the wind turbines were visible.
Three dune folk stood with the sun behind them.
They looked out onto a silver blue sea.
A tall thin old man appeared from the dunes with a tall thin old greyhound.
There were no hands in pockets today.
Beach Buoy's hand hung by his side.
The worries of the world dripped from his finger ends onto the sand.
Beach Buoy gathered some large pieces of seacoal for the stack.
They said hello to Stubborn Dog.
"Afternoon Mate."
Beach Buoy added the coal to the stack.
They stayed a while.
Coffee and a dog treat or two.
It was 4-44 p.m.
They headed back.
"See you mate."
Back to the beach
Hook-a-duck Gulls floated on a stretch of sea that had sought out some low-lying sand.
A nearby factory broadcast a bing bong message across the beach.
The sun began to set.
It looked like a flame-effect fire both real and false all rolled into one.
BEACH BUOY.
