It was before 3-30 when Beach Buoy got up.
It's O.K in the summer, when sunrises begin with a 4.
Not so great sitting around waiting to go to the beach.
Beach Buoy made a coffee and caught up on the blog.
He made a coffee for the beach.
Beach Buoy and Another reached the beach car park at 6-14 a.m.
It was as dark as night.
A White VW Golf was parked up, engine running and headlights blazing against the promenade wall.
The lady who once fell off her bike on the promenade walked in and out of the Golf headlight beam.
She was heading to the southern most end of the promenade, with lit torch in hand.
Beach Buoy faffed on.
Colourful dashboard lights were on.
Two blue metallic torches hang in the driving section of the van.
These were lit, as was the van's campervan illumination.
A council road/ car park sweeper arrived to clean the car park.
It drove in random patterns with bright orange lights flashing.
It's rotating brushes had swept up a drink can.
It was reluctant to go up the suction pipe.
The truck drove around with a metallic clatter.
A motorised version of kick the can.
Beach Buoy made a move to go.
A large dog stood nearby.
It had an illuminated flashing red collar.
"He's O.K. he doesn't bother little dogs."
A man approached.
"He likes to run around with the bigger dogs."
The two men ended up descending the beach access ramp together.
The man launched a ball for his dog with one of those plastic ball launchers.
"Oh, l forgot me bloody torch." said the man."
The torch-less man headed north.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south.
Lights to the north looked like 4x4 Border Collie Couple, heading back their vehicle.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south.
It was blowy but mild.
The tide was way out.
Beach-trapped water reflected well in the half light.
It was still 40 or 50 minutes to sunrise.
A sandbank at the water's edge was breach by a wave.
Sea water rushed in, filling the lower dips in the beach's surface.
The water swirled and turned as it found its level.
You would have enjoyed seeing that.
The strong breeze whipped the tops off breaking waves.
Overhead, Gulls dropped a wing here and there to try to stabilise themselves in the turbulent air.
They looked like kites that had broken free from their strings.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog climbed up The Sandy Slope.
A driftwood finger seemed to point the way to Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Morning Mate."
It was 7-04 a.m.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He fetched the driftwood plank and checked the amount of wobble.
Perfect.
He sat drinking coffee watching the bay.
The Sun has yet to show up.
Up above, an aeroplane seemed to travel from cloud A to B in what open sky there was.
Harbour lights still flashed brightly even though it was lighter now.
"See you mate "
They headed back to the beach.
They carried on southwards.
They walked in and out of the tank traps.
For no reason in particular Beach Buoy let his orange coat sleeves cover his hands.
It reminded him of being a child on a cold morning.
For a moment he felt like Billy Casper in the film Kes.
He had done it before.
He had felt like that before.
With hands back on show he waved to the jogging part of Team Muzzled Dog
(Border Collie Section.)
Not too long later the hands came in handy once more, as Beach Buoy waved to the walking half of Team Muzzled Dog as they crossed the dune edge.
(Muzzled Dog Section.)
They continued back to the north.
The sky seemed to be hungry with many ribcage-looking clouds.
Three Cormorants flew towards the River together.
Beach Buoy waved to Stubborn Dog Stack as he passed.
Back to the van.
Spotty toasted teacake and milky coffee.
BEACH BUOY.
