Saturday.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog parked up in Sandy Car Park it was 6-32 a.m.
Sunrise seekers stood by the sea.
They headed to the sea.
The Sun rose at 6-36.
People took sunrise selfies.
Others just walked the beach.
It was mild.
The blades of the wind turbines spun slowly.
The air was still on the beach.
Click.
Another sunrise captured.
The tide was well out.
Others led the way.
Team One Black Ear caught up.
They and Beach Buoy chatted all of the way to the grey rocks.
Milo, their Borrowed Dog had returned home and to street walks.
He must really miss the beach.
As they walked Beach Buoy gathered up two upturned and stranded starfish.
He took them to a beach pool.
The sea looked like Golden Syrup.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to the low level route.
Hugo, the dog was given a brushing session.
They often do it here, at their turning point.
The low level route.
Beach Buoy had already collected five suitable beach stones.
"Morning Mate."
It was 7-04.
Beach Buoy added the stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
Sit and think on the driftwood plank with plenty of rust.
It was so peaceful.
A slight breeze had picked up.
It was so slight that it was difficult to determine it's direction.
Sunshine shadows on the beach below.
The couple with blue carrier bags inside a pink headed south with their dogs.
A lady with a Labrador headed south.
A man with a Labrador headed North.
Both dogs ended chasing the same ball.
"See you mate."
They continued southwards in the dunes.
A broken fence post with a pointed end looked like a Giant's misplaced pencil.
Lovely clouds out in the bay.
Skylarks.
🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
Down by the Tank Traps.
It was warm.
Snood and hat were stuffed into the beach back.
A long ride on a short Pier?
A glorious morning.
Dismount.
KEEP OUT.
Back to the open road.
They turned to head back.
It really had been gorgeous.
If Beach Buoy was only one beach a year.
Today would be that one day.
Beach-trapped water reflecting the clouds.
A water Camera Obscura.
Beach Buoy gave a distant wave to Stubborn Dog Stack from the beach below as they passed.
The man who once had four dogs passed by as he headed south with his three wonderful dogs.
Not too distant waves were shared.
The very very wet retriever caught up from the south.
The owner overtook.
"Morning."
"Morning."
The warmth of the morning sun had made him take off his coat.
The arms were tied around his waist like a belt.
The coat itself swung like a kilt as they headed off.
A very very wet retriever.
At times he sits in the sea with just his head showing like a curious seal.
They continued north.
A man passed with four small dogs.
They walked in a square pattern.
Each dog lead looking like a tent guide rope, keeping the walker upright.
The Sun shone even more brightly.
Sharpe sunshine shadows walked ahead.
Beach Buoy himself was a little blurry around the edges.
No coffee yet!
Back to the van.
Radio on.
All cried out.
Alison Moyet.
Later that day...
"Quiet" coffee in the garden.
Gulls.
Their call as welcome as the Skylark's song, the Sand Martin's swoop or a Little Tern's dive.
It's seaside...
BEACH BUOY.
