Friday.
A day off
As Beach Buoy turned at the T-junction at the end of the road, a workmate's car passed by, work bound.
Beach Buoy turned left, beach bound.
It was 6-32 a.m.
Shortly afterwards, Beach Buoy and Another Dog were on a bright and breezy beach.
A one man 7 a.m. club paused to chat
It wasn't a long chat.
It was the deepest of discussions in the shortest of times.
Old men can do that.
A lady walked her Yorkshire Terrier near the water's edge.
Beach Buoy pulled two hoods.
It wasn't cold.
It was just because.
A Parcel of Oyster Catchers paddled in the sea.
The lady with the Yorkshire Terrier passed by, returning north.
"Morning."
"Morning."
They had chatted before.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog continued south.
The tide was well in.
It was a narrow beach.
Team Distant Wave passed.
No distant waves, thanks to the narrow beach
It was chats today.
They had just had coffee up at Camp Distant Wave.
Tragically one of the two young fox-like pups had lost its life due to a birth defect.
Tragedy.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy added some stones plus one extra for the lost pup.
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy drank a stack coffee.
A breeze had become a wind.
Rainfall seemed to be heading down river.
No Tug required.
"See you mate."
They returned to The Sandy Slope that led back to the beach.
Spots of rain began to fall, both random but constant all rolled into one.
The Sun shone.
"Rainbow?"
Beach Buoy asked himself.
"Yes "
answered the sky.
Pot of the gold up in the dunes.
They headed back to the van.
Beach Buoy sat watching the sea.
It's what he does best after all said and done.
BEACH BUOY.
