Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to the beach.
The day had seen rain upon rain.
It was almost 7 p.m.
The rain had stopped.
At the south end of the promenade, the early morning litter pick lady was having an evening visit.
She was chatting to a couple who were sat on the southern most Promenade bench.
The bottom of the access ramp was flooded with rainfall.
Beach Buoy placed Another Dog on the ramps low wall.
The work) Life balance was better than wet paws.
They headed south.
The tide was quite high, having peaked earlier.
The post-rain sun had gone.
It was overcast now.
There was a pleasant breeze blowing off the sea.
They walked sand, shingle, shells and seacoal.
The air was full of the chatter of Little Terns.
Beach Buoy paused to make a note in his note book
20/6/23
Skylarks still singing.
He looked out to see.
Another Dog sniffed at the breeze that blew off the sea.
They headed up The Sandy Slope.
The rain-smoothed footprints looked like his from yesterday.
7-30 p.m.
"Mor, aft"
"Evening Mate."
He was tired and not fully sure just what time of day it was.
He patted
THE
stone.
He added more to the stack.
A man with earphones in passed by on the beach below.
He headed north oblivious to the sound of the Sea and the Skylarks.
"See you mate."
Back to the beach.
Their walk back was slow as usual.
A lady headed south with a Jack Russell and a flamboyant hat.
A man and woman appeared from the north.
They seemed to be a couple?
He was just overtaking her slower pace
He looked straight ahead as he walked.
The woman looked down to the sand.
Beach Buoy headed back to the van.
It was 8-06 p.m.
BEACH BUOY.
