Beach Buoy hadn't been to the beach for almost a week for other reasons.
Today it was man-flu that almost caused an absence.
He sat and pondered.
To go or not to go.
He went.
He reached the beach at 9-25 a.m. with Another Dog.
It was cold.
He was cold.
His clothes felt non-existant,
His skin felt like paper.
The cold wind off the sea cut straight to the bone.
It felt more like late November, than March.
The tide was way out, adding to the windswept scene.
The Seaton Carew Wreck was well ashore.
The sand had started to reclaimed it's timbers.
People were few and far between.
A Parent and child headed to the water's edge.
BEACH ART.
TITLE:- OVER THERE.
ARTIST:- THE TIDE.
Two metal detectorists scanned the strand-line.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south, aiming for the "easy" route to Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Morning Mate."
It was 10-10.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Some of the stack had been disturbed.
He tidied the stones.
The wooden wedge over a metre long was no longer on the stack.
He looked around.
The driftwood log with a bit of a roll had reappeared in the dunes.
Beach Buoy replaced it on the stack.
He sat and drank a welcome coffee.
He stood to leave.
There to the north, on the very edge of the dunes was a wooden wedge over a metre long.
Maybe it had been moved by the wind?
Beach Buoy collected the wedge.
He stashed it as "stock"
In the long dune grass.
The "lost" Jack stone was found and returned to the stack.
Apparently Jack's ashes are up at the stack too.
They headed back.
Beach Buoy felt rough.
The van would be a welcome site.
BEACH BUOY.
