Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off on foot for the beach.
It was bin day.
Green plastic bins stood full of expectation and a week of trash.
The air was still.
It was overcast.
The sky over the bay glowed pre-sunrise Orange .
It guided them to the sea like a beacon.
Three hoods were up.
Two Orange.
One black.
A workmate's car drove by on the way to work.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog took a different route.
A figure in black followed their steps.
It looked like death or lost shadow was trying to play catch up.
Lit streetlights began to switch off in no particular order.
A Golfer stood practising putts.
They cut through the Planet Funland trucks.
They reached the beach at 6-43 a.m.
The sky was glowing.
A visual take on a drumroll for the sun to appear.
A one man 7 a.m. club was heading north.
He waved.
More of a, come and chat wave than just a one of the distant variety.
Beach Buoy waved back as he headed for a chat.
Three hoods came down for the conversation.
Mari, the big friendly poodle came for a neck scratch.
As they talked the sun rose.
A ship eclipsed it briefly as it headed to the Tees.
The two men and three dogs went their separate ways.
In a matter of minutes.
The glow had gone.
Gold became grey.
Spots of rain began to fall.
Three hoods went up.
A man strode from the dunes to the sea with momentum, his dog and a driftwood stick.
The stick went into the sea, as did the dog.
The man stayed onshore
The two worked their way north repeating the routine over and over again.
In no time at all they were dots in the distance.
Beach Buoy made another pathetic ascent of The Sandy Slope.
On all fours isn't a good look.
It can make one feel like an old man and a kid all rolled into one.
Thankfully no rolling was involved.
He made it to the top.
"Morning Mate."
It was 7-20 a.m.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He drank coffee.
The rain had stopped.
A distant dog barked unseen in the dunes.
Beach Buoy thought that it might be Stubborn Dog, running with the foxes.
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach.
Some bits and bobs.
They began a slow walk back.
The raindrops returned.
A defiant all-weather Skylark sang above the dunes.
Team Muzzled Dog headed south.
"Hiya."
"Hiya."
The Timid Border Collie said Hiya too, in its own way.
Up on the Promenade big news.
The wired for sound man stood, earplugs out as he chatted to the couple with the black dog in a Mick Aston jumper.
Although it was raining, Beach Buoy and Another Dog wandered through the village.
The local church.
It appears that the Bus Station Clock isn't the only one that is out of sync.
It was 8-08 a.m.
BEACH BUOY.
