Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 7-45 p.m.
It was sunny and warm.
The tide was heading out.
Beach Buoy could hear the sound of a distant drumbeat.
They headed south.
A lady walked a white dog.
It looked like an Alsatian, on a long training -type lead.
They passed on the narrow beach.
"Hi there."
"Hiya."
People and dogs were dotted along the water's edge.
The beach would soon become wider, thanks to the tide.
They climbed the big slope.
They walked the "easy " route.
8-11.
"Evening Mate."
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He sat on the driftwood wedge about a metre long.
Beach Buoy hides some of the painted stones at times.
Sometimes they reappear unannounced.
Sand Martins swooped on the calmest of evenings.
Music from a nearby festival seemed to echo off the dunes.
The noise was O.K; people having fun.
Beach Buoy sat like a sponge, soaking up another light night.
Stored in the bank for later memories.
A young couple walked by as the headed north along the "easy" route.
"Hello there."
"Hi."
Beach Buoy soaked up a bit more summer.
He stood.
He stretched.
"See you mate."
They headed back along the beach, northwards.
Back behind him to the south, three young lads gathered driftwood for a beach bonfire.
Beach Buoy hoped that the driftwood wedge about a metre long would last the night.
BEACH BUOY.
