Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed for the beach in the van.
It's only a short drive but taking the van means they have a mobile beach hut to return to.
A Gull led the way. It had dropped down to van height choosing to fly just in front of the van as though guiding them.
It peeled off to the right when they reached the Cricket Club.
It reminded Beach Buoy of those birds that were raised by a man with a microlight. They would fly alongside him each flight.
They reached the beach car park Gull-less at 6-28 a.m.
It was overcast.
There was a slight mist in the air.
It was mild, hardly a breeze.
The Wind Turbines stood like motionless shadows, grey in the gloom.
They headed south.
The tide way out, the beach vast.
Sea Pottery.
Sea tumbled coal, destined for Stubborn Dog Stack.
A man with a bright red coat and a purposeful walk, cut his way through the greyness at speed.
He was heading south.
Not long afterwards he was heading north.
The 7 a.m. club passed by at a bit of a distance.
"Morning Paul."
"Morning."
Beach Buoy added a bit of a distance wave for good measure.
Crows followed on behind the 7 a.m. club like Gulls behind an incoming fishing boat.
Cat treats were scattered for the black hopping and hoping birds.
Beach Buoy looked back.
The view may look like a nod to the Coal Industry of the past.
Seacoal.
In truth much of their walk had been over thousands of Mussels shells.
More to do with the present than the past.
Sea Pottery.
They headed to Stubborn Dog Stack.
Beach Buoy added the coal pieces.
He patted
THE
stone.
"Morning Mate."
It was 7-01.
Team Distant Wave passed by on the beach below.
Distant waves were exchanged.
Beach Buoy sipped coffee.
Team Distant Wave continued north.
A man with a large dog headed south.
Beach Buoy sat watching beach folk do beach things.
He laid out some more bits and bobs that had been in his beach bag a while.
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach.
Trunks...
The Sun made a noble effort as it tried to break through the cloud.
It spread out a beam of light across the sea.
It was pale.
More like moonlight than Sun.
They dawdled back to the north.
The Beachcombing Border Collie Couple came and went.
A lady version of Beach Buoy headed south as she talked on her mobile phone.
Black hat.
Orange coat.
Blue jeans.
Beach Buoy paused to look at the sea.
It's what Beach Buoy's do best.
They chatted to Mr.Gunn/Nunn.
He was counting days to retire now.
He and Alfie will have more time for the beach.
Beach Buoy headed to the Promenade.
The happy to chat sign.
Beach Buoy had another coffee.
He had a Pain du Raisin too.
8-12 a.m. it began to rain.
Not long afterwards he nodded off.
Lulled by the sound of the rain on the van's roof.
Clip Clop.
The sound of horses woke him.
Beach Buoy was surprised to see the two riders pause to smoke cigarettes.
Clop Clip, they headed down the beach access ramp.
Promenade People passed in the rain.
Later.
Beach Buoy found some dog fur clippers that hadn't been used since Stubborn Dog.
There he was.
Beach Buoy gathered the prescious fur that was still in the blades of the clippers.
Tweezers and tears were involved.
He placed his fur in a bag.
I miss him.
BEACH BUOY.
