Beach Buoy, Borrowed and Another Dog headed down the beach access ramp near to the beach huts at 8-22 a.m.
They headed south.
There was a hint of mist.
A distant fog buzzer buzzed.
The tide was more in than it was out.
To the south, sunlight tried to break through.
Some of the beach had been readied for that evening's firework display.
"Beam me up Scotty."
A lady with a limp and a Labrador headed north.
Up near the dune edge a couple sat on a driftwood log.
They stood.
They packed their rucksacks before heading to the dunes.
A close encounter...
Beach Buoy and the dogs crossed sand and seacoal as they headed to the big slope.
The seacoal crunched underfoot like a gravel driveway.
Pebbles with Legs ran along the water's edge.
These were about 50 % larger than the usual ones.
Still small enough to be classed as pebbles.
It was chilly.
Bare finger ends were cold.
The walked the "easy" route.
"Morning Mate."
It was 8-35.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Beach Buoy sat on the well-worn plank with plenty of rust.
He was tired
He had not been to sleep at all.
He sat a while.
"See you mate."
They all slid down to the beach below.
They walked back to the village.
Toxic smoke seemed to be rising to the north.
A slow walk back.
They stopped to chat to Mr.Gunn/Lunn.
Excellent dog Alfie was there too.
They went their separate ways.
A lady with a doodle dog walked the water's edge.
BEACH BUOY.
