Monday.
Beach Buoy headed to the beach with Another Dog.
He whistled s Bob Marley tune.
It was 6-26 a.m.
They set off southwards to Stubborn Dog Stack.
It was overcast.
There was a cold breeze from the north.
The tide was well in, the sea choppy.
The sea sounded like someone had placed a large seashell near a microphone.
To the north, the 7 a.m. club and Team One Black Ear were heading south.
A lady passed with an Brown Spaniel.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Beach Buoy let them have the water's edge to themselves, choosing to head up to the strand-line.
The lady playfully kicked the ball for her dog.
Just another person becoming twelve again for awhile.
Team Black Ear caught up.
The Gentleman is a big Newcastle fan.
Even his dog is black and white.
They talked football as the walked to the grey rocks.
They went their separate ways.
"Morning Mate."
It was 7 a.m.
Beach Buoy added suitable stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He sat on the driftwood plank with plenty of rust.
He watched the light change over The Gares as the clouds moved.
Rubes.
X
He watched the light show a little longer.
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach below.
Head back to the north.
The lady who walks the full length of the beach was up ahead.
She turned back, short of the the full length of the available beach.
Day turned to night.
The world began to rotate in the opposite direction.
Sea Pottery.
Always pays to check.
It went into the beach bag.
Mr. Gunn/Lunn stopped for a brief chat as he and Excellent Dog Alfie walked their circular walk.
They went their separate ways.
The man with three dogs who once had four headed south.
"Morning."
"Morning.
Least it's not raining."
They headed back to The Esplanade.
Beach Buoy.
