Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 6-01 a.m.
Sunrise was said to be at 6-02.
The tide was way out.
A Tanker Driver had parked up.
He rested on the Promenade wall, with a thermal cup and baseball cap for company.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to the beach
They headed south, closer to the strand-line than the sea.
Low cloud lay on the horizon, looking like a far off land.
Two sunrise seekers headed north on the water's edge.
The sunrise seekers.
The Sun seemed to be checking to sea if the coast was indeed clear.
The Sun cleared the clouds at 6-17 a.m.
Seafront houses glowed yellow as if some giant highlighter pen had judged them to be important.
They are.
Two teenage boys walked and talked like old men as they headed north along the strand-line.
The 7 a.m. club were returning north.
"Morning Paul."
"Morning Paul."
"Morning."
Shortly afterwards, free spirit Mari could be seen dashing along the beach playing catch-up once again.
A high curved dune edge caught the morning sun like a giant baseball glove.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to Stubborn Dog Stack.
Another Dog did short zoomies on her extending lead.
"Morning Mate."
It was 6-39 a.m.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He retrieved the wobbly driftwood plank.
He top and tailed it.
The top was wet from overnight dampness.
It was already that time of year.
He sat down and drank a wobbly coffee.
Two hoods had been pulled up.
More for the one man tent effect than the slight breeze blowing across the more exposed dunes.
Nearby, a bird whistled like a builder on a Friday afternoon.
The overnight damp had left droplets of water on much of the dune grass.
The blades of grass looked like tiny lanterns dancing in the breeze.
6-54 a.m.
Beach Buoy stood up and stretched right to the ends of his fingertips, as though he was going to grab the Sun and the Moon, then hold the world to ransom.
Whilst stretching he rotated his waist fully to the left then right.
He looked along the beach.
Not a soul in sight or sound.
He gave a yawn.
"See you mate."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog returned to the beach.
They continued southwards.
Beach Buoy is a million miles from being a pearl, but for a while, this morning, it felt like the World was his Oyster.
They passed Camp Distant Wave.
It's timbers were curving upwards like a smile.
To the north, the Beachcombing Border Collie Couple had walked as far as the grey rocks.
They returned to the north.
A dog walker and a fisherman were up on North Gare Pier.
By the side of the Pier, rippled pools drained back to the sea.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog turned back to the north.
Beach Buoy let the sea run over the top of his beach boots.
It didn't matter today.
Team Muzzled Dog headed south.
Beach Buoy continued north as he soaked up the sights and sounds of the sea.
They followed bare footprints.
They returned to the van.
Beach Buoy.
