A neighbour has had to say goodbye to their dog .
Pixie was a Splendid Little Dog.
Beach Buoy had collected some suitable stones on his last beach visit.
He painted them in readiness to take up to Stubborn Dog Stack.
He popped them into his beach bag.
A tin of spray varnish was taken too.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach.
It was 6-38 a.m.
The lady who has once fallen of her bike walked the Esplanade with a friend.
"Morning."
"Morning."
The 7 a.m. club were heading south along the water's edge.
It was before sunrise.
Team one black ear caught up.
They chatted as they travelled
They tried to put the world to rights.
They failed.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog climbed the big slope.
Low mist made a rusting oil rig float.
Golf Club staff moved like ghosts over the course.
Maybe that's why the Golf Club flag seems to be at half-mast so often?
7-06.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Billy Buoy was still in place.
He reached into his bag for the Pixie stones.
He sprayed them with varnish.
Once dry, one was placed on show, the other hidden.
Pixie.
One on show.
The other hidden.
Billy Buoy mimicked the sunrise.
7-12 a.m.
Beach Buoy sat on the well-worn plank with plenty of rust.
The Sun cleared the horizon.
Can't be many days left now, rising over the sea.
Soon be overland.
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach below.
The lady who walks the full length of the beach did so by the sea.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed north.
Team Muzzled Dog came, they chatted before going their own ways.
This blog post is dedicated to
PIXIE.
BEACH BUOY.
