Sunday.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach car park at 5-43 a m.
An overnight campervan was parked nearby.
The Sun was already up but hidden behind cloud.
A yellow glow seemed to highlight the horizon.
A fresh, light breeze blew from the west.
A few tail end stragglers remained but most of the Little Terns had left the nesting site.
Or maybe the birds were from up north, stopping off at Seaton Carew as they too headed south?
The tide was well out.
They reached the strand-line at 5-53 a.m.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the beach was deserted.
They began to head south as a few drops of rain began to fall.
Beach Buoy paused.
He reached into his beach bag for a small pair of binoculars.
He scanned the bay.
Over on South Gare Pier, a line of motorhomes and campervans had set up a makeshift seaside village.
Rays of light shone done on the horizon.
A one man 7 a.m. club came along.
They continued south together, chatting.
They went beyond Stubborn Dog Stack.
Beach Buoy decided to visit on the way back north as the two men were mid-co version.
Not long afterwards, the 7 a.m. club headed north.
Beach Buoy continued to North Gare Pier.... to the south.😬
They mooched around the grey rocks, the Tank Traps too.
It looked like the Sand Martins may have gone?
There were none to be seen.
In complete contrast around two hundred Gulls sat bobbing on the sea alongside North Gare Pier.
They turned to head back south.
As they did so a feeding frenzy began.
Gulls and Gannets travelled from all directions to take part.
Beach Buoy presumed that the Sprats were in?
Three times in total the birds moved from area to area to feast.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Morning Mate."
It was 6-58 a.m.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone
He found the hidden driftwood plank.
He sat having a wobbly coffee as the last feeding frenzy of the morning played out.
The Sun came out.
A Lone Sand Martin did appear.
It flew up and down the dune edge.
"See you mate."
It was 7-16 a.m.
Not a soul in sight.
They returned to the beach.
Beach Buoy paused to watched The Lone Sand Martin's flight.
They headed back to the north.
Three appeared in the distance.
To the north, a horse and buggy moved along the water's edge.
A lady headed south by the sea, stopping to take photographs as she progressed.
They took aim at the beach car park.
Team Muzzled Dog were heading south.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Norwegian Wood?
These birds had flown.
They were alone.
Back in the Promenade, a worker begins to collect the cones that kept people away from the wall directly over looking the Little Tern Nest Site.
The horse headed slowly to the dune edge.
Beach Buoy did the sandy boot stomp at the top of the access ramp.
He headed to the van and a milky coffee.
He relaxed.
His mind headed south with the migrating birds.
He nodded off.
THE LITTLE TERN UPDATE.
Kindly sent by a reader on Bookface.
BEACH BUOY.
