Beach Buoy, Borrowed Dog and Another Dog reached the beach access ramp that is near the beach huts at 8-20 a.m.
They went down to the beach.
The view north.
They headed south.
There was hint of mist in the air.
Fine water droplets were blown gently by a south westerly breeze.
The tide was more in than it was out.
The Seaton Carew Wreck was still at sea.
Sea coal strips stretched out like a runway.
Two ladies in big coats and wooly hats headed north with their Doodle Dog on Beach Buoy's right-hand side.
To his left, a grey rippled sea.
The beach ahead belonged to them and Four Oyster Catchers.
As they headed to the big slope and the "easy" route beyond, Beach Buoy collected suitable stack stones.
They walked the "easy" route .
The stack came in to view.
"Morning Mate."
It was 8-54.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
Six in total.
He patted
THE
stone.
He sat on the well-worn plank with plenty of rust.
Another Dog laid in the sand.
Borrowed Dog sat staring at Beach t.
Two men and their Spaniels walked the water's edge.
Beach Buoy just sat watching the bay.
The sea was just folding gently onto the beach below.
To his left, unseen in the dune grass and sea buckthorn, birds sang a sweet song.
Beach Buoy stood to go.
"See you mate."
They slid down to the beach, directly in front of the stack.
They walked the sandy path.
It had recently formed behind the grey rocks, all thanks to a combination of crumbling dune edge and wind-blown sand.
They began a slow walk back.
Half a dozen crows pecked at the seacoal.
Half a dozen is more of a manslaughter than a murder surely?
The Gulls were noticeable by their absence.
They had headed inland.
A day on the local tip in store.
A man marched the water's edge.
Fungi in the dunes...
💁
🤡
Fish Face Face Chip shop.
For a drawing later.
For a drawing later too.
BEACH BUOY.
