Tuesday.
Beach Buoy, Borrowed Dog and Another Dog reached the Park car park at 8-16 a.m.
They headed for the beach.
A delightful small black dog trotted towards them.
It had a plastic bottle in its mouth.
The dog has it gripped tightly by the neck.
It looked as if the little dog had a big drink problem.
The two beach tractors were clearing Station Lane Access Ramp.
Beach Buoy and the dogs accessed the beach via the set of steps to the south.
It was 8-22 a.m.
It was Sunny.
It was windy.
There was some shifting sand.
Beach Buoy carried out a mental risk assessment.
It would be fine.
A beach-found football rocked from side to side in the wind.
Exposed beach stones were keeping it in place.
A man with two black dogs was heading south along the water's edge.
A lady with a tall Terrier-type dog headed to the north.
Beach Buoy and the dogs headed south along the water's edge.
He gathered five suitable stones for Stubborn Dog Stack.
Up on the strand-line, the man with the chocolate Labrador marched towards the big slope.
A large, but harmless Labradoodle came over.
It was more Labra than doodle.
It just looked like a Labrador in need of a shave.
Borrowed Dog scared it off with a bark.
A Little Black Dog came over next.
Again, Borrowed Dog saw it off with a bark.
Beach Buoy searched some shingle strips.
If you ever meet a Mermaid, you might notice her eyes.
Like rock pools.
Full of the Ocean..
Today, Beach Buoy found a rock pool that looked like a Mermaid's eye.
They made their way to the low level route.
They paused under a Mackeral sky
It was sheltered from the wind down on the low level route.
"Morning Mate."
It was 9-04.
Beach Buoy added some stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He sat on the driftwood plank with plenty of rust.
Someone had placed a piece of plastic on top of the driftwood.
Beach Buoy decided to leave it for now.
Much more annoyingly, some prat had dumped a dog poo bag nearby.
Beach Buoy cursed them.
HE REALLY DID!
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach.
A February fly flew close by.
They headed back.
Up ahead, a couple were heading south with their dog.
They plonked themselves up on a dune edge slope.
"What a pair of plonkers!"
Beach Buoy thought, in the nicest possible way.
One plonker stayed putt.
The other plonker went to the sea with their dog.
Even the dog was a plonker.
The plonkers traded places.
Dune edge to sea.
Sea to dune edge.
Up on The Esplanade, two ladies headed south, side by side.
One was walking quickly, the other jogging slowly.
They talked at the same speed.
BEACH BUOY.
