Beach Buoy had been up since just
after 4 a.m.
He made a coffee.
He updated the blog.
He started a drawing.
He waited...
He waited some more.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog finally arrived the car park at 7-43 a.m.
A strong wind from the south west, was blowing shifting sand out to sea.
Hundreds of Gulls hung high in the air.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog walked the Promenade.
There was less shifting sand was down by the dunes.
They offered the beach shelter.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog would join the beach there.
A lady who walks the beach regularly passed by.
Her beach walk was done.
She stamped her feet to clear sand from her shoes
"Morning."
"Morning."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed down the beach access ramp.
The only male member of Team Mick Aston Jumper walked the heights of the dunes with his small black pug.
Together alone.
The others were not to be seen today.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog left the shifting sands to the north.
They headed south.
The Beachcombing Border Collie Couple were up at the strand-line.
Their beach was nearly done.
The strong wind must have put people off coming to the beach?
It was fairly quiet.
The tide was still up to the grey rocks.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog crossed the rocks carefully to reach Stubborn Dog Stack.
8-27 a.m.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy set up the wobbly driftwood plank.
He sat with a wobbly driftwood coffee.
The wind up on the top of the dunes added additional wobbles.
The "fun" size mars bar made it all worthwhile.
😬
Beach Buoy watched the sea as others watch the flames of a fire.
The sea wasn't rough.
It was rippled by the wind.
Gusting patterns of the wind would dance across the surface of the sea.
Marine murumartion.
There was no rush.
The car park that they had parked in, is a disc zone April to October.
Beach Buoy presumed the remainder of the year you could stay all day?
There was no signage to say otherwise.
Eventually...
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach.
They walked alongside the sea.
The tide was receding.
The beach was widening.
Beach Buoy stuffed idle hands into the pockets of his jeans.
Pink clouds had turned white.
As they travelled northwards, weak sunshine shadows took the lead.
A man walked below the dune edge with his three dogs.
To the north, a man took photographs of his Dog in the sea.
The Dune edge tapered down to zero, the wind picked up.
Another Dog was picked up too, carried to the Promenade out of the way of the snaking dry wind-blown sand.
They passed the Clock Tower.
Starlings flew here there and everywhere.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog walked along The Front taking photographs to help with daft drawings at a later date.
BEACH BUOY.
