Monday evening.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 6-32.
It was sunny.
Any trace of the earlier fog had gone.
Wind Turbines spun slowly but purposely in the breeze from the west.
They looked to be freshly painted against a darker backdrop.
The colours of the bay seemed so vibrant after a foggy day.
It felt like going back to colour television after watching a black and white film.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed south, passing a metal detectorist as he scanned for dune for lost change.
The beach equivalent as sticking your hand down the back of the sofa.
A lady sat in a random spot on the beach with her greyhound.
The tide was working its way in.
Up ahead, to the south, a fisherman walked as he fished.
It was a lovely evening.
The type of evening that you wish you could bank, cashing it in sometime in January.
"Evening Mate."
It was 7-03.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy sat on the driftwood wedge about a metre long.
Another sat watching.
A jogger appeared suddenly from the south.
Beach Buoy moved Another Dog from the beaten track
aka
The "easy" route.
" There you go mate."
"Cheers, thank you very much."
Beach Buoy sat a while...
"See you mate."
As the sun came down and the tide came in, they set off back along the "easy" route.
Back to the beach.
A slow walk back.
BEACH BUOY.
