Sunday.
Beach Buoy locked the front door
at 7-11 a.m.
A Big Moon hung at one end of the street.
The Wind Turbines spun at the other.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off on foot and paw.
It was light but the street lights were still illuminated.
As they passed the cricket / sports club, Seven Ducks quacked on a football penalty area.
The closer they came to the Wind Turbines, the smaller they seemed to become.
They passed the Golf Club.
A golfer coughed as he entered the clubhouse.
As they turned to head to the beach, a street light mimicked The Moon.
They crossed the beach car park at 7-28.
The Beachcombing Border Collie Couple were heading back; beach done and dusted.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach.
The air was fresh but almost still.
The slight breeze that did blow from the north east, must have been strong enough to rotate the bay's Turbines.
A number of groups of all ages seemed to have come to the beach.
More than likely to witness the sunrise?
This time of year it takes place over land not sea.
Any low cloud should not be an issue.
Not Beach Buoy turned left at the dunes with his small dog.
Off, back along The Esplanade they went as they always do.
Many of the beach folk are creatures of habit.
The tide was a fair way out.
The tips of the wreck's timbers stood out of the water like fingers of a floundering crew.
There was a good feeling in the air.
Peace.
Oneness.
A shared goal.
Some of the sunrise seekers stood around a beach bonfire.
The bonfire crackled and popped like a giant bowl of Rice Krispies.
Little children were more impressed with the bonfire than any upcoming Sunrise.
The Sun appeared as Team One Black Ear approached from the south.
Beach Buoy gave the black and mainly white dog a shoulder scratch as they two men chatted.
They wished each other well before going their separate ways.
A couple headed north.
Their dog looked like one of Beach Buoy's dogs; Bonnie.
He has the clip from her lead on his key ring.
He carries it always.
A couple, overtook.
A run to the sun.
They paused to turn to do a Sun selfie.
Beach Buoy collected some stones for the stack, five in total.
They climbed a big slope edged with frost.
The "easy" route had frost too.
"Morning Mate."
It was 8-06 a.m.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
The well-worn plank with plenty of rust was gone.
It had been thrown onto the beach below.
The person that threw it was as lazy as they were pathetic.
Beach Buoy fetched it and sat on the reinstated seat.
The Sun's brightness didn't match it's heat.
Not today.
A Ship entered The River Tees.
They carried on to Sand Martin Corner.
Beach Buoy searched the shingle that was scattered around.
They returned to the beach every now and then they would have to step over a draining rock pool stream.
Water headed back to the sea in folds.
The Steams' pattern resembled that of a vertibrae.
The Tank Traps.
Sand Martin Corner to the rear.
They returned northwards.
A Lone Oyster Catcher whistled like an old friend trying to attract Beach Buoy's attention.
It worked.
Rock Pools still drained.
They headed back north.
The Seaton Carew Wreck was ashore.
People stood onboard pointing.
On the way back to base camp, they met Dottie Dog and her mam, they were heading towards the beach.
They chatted about the weather.
How lucky they were living so close to the sea.
They went their separate ways.
Beach Buoy's mobile phone had ran out of battery.
You'll have to take his word for it.
BEACH BUOY.
