Good Friday.
Sunrise was at 5-55.
Know on the blog as Subaru o'clock.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog arrived at 6-21.
The idea was to catch the sunrise but Beach Buoy had felt unwell.
It took longer to be ready for the beach than was anticipated.
It was an unusual horizon.
Typically it would be either clear sky or low cloud on the horizon.
Today, a band of sky on the horizon was capped with cloud.
It made a nice change.
The fencing for The Little Tern nest site.
He could hear the early arrivals chattering somewhere up above but was unable to pinpoint the slight but wonderful visitors.
Four people talked and hugged on The Esplanade, before going their own ways in pairs.
The orange in the sky looked like end of night camp fire embers.
The view from The Esplanade.
The southern end of the protective fencing.
They headed down the southernmost access ramp, onto the beach.
The view to the north.
They tide was a canny way in.
The 7 a.m. Club were to the south
Two Oyster Catchers trotted ahead along the water's edge.
They, as always looked like little clockwork dinosaurs.
A man with a Labrador headed south on the water's edge.
"Morning."
"Morning."
The 7 a.m. club headed back north.
"Morning."
"Morning."
They had a brief chat before going their own ways.
Gulls above.
It was a glorious scene.
It was topped by the first Little Tern dive of the year.
"Splash."
The light was as strange as it was beautiful.
The photograph doesn't show the scene to its full potential.
The sea was rippled but it was smooth not sharpe ripples.
In both reality and imagination, the darker sides of the ripples looked like hundreds of dolphins or seals working their way north.
Each ripple an arched back, diving
Two Oyster Catchers flew northwards towards the Village.
Team One Black Ear gave a distant wave as Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the grey rocks.
Beach Buoy waited for them.
They chatted before each going to their own chosen driftwood bench.
"Morning Mate."
It was 7-08 a.m.
Beach Buoy added five suitable stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
A sit and think.
Beach Buoy sits and thinks here a lot.
Rusty-sounding Gulls headed north.
A Parcel of Oyster Catchers headed south.
Skylarks burst into song.
"See you mate."
They walked the low level route back to the beach below.
They headed back towards the village.
Team Muzzled Dog passed by.
One jogging.
One walking.
"Morning."
"Hiya."
"Morning."
"Morning."
They went their separate ways at differing speeds.
Faint sunshine shadows led the way back.
The sound of Little Tern chattering sounded above.
BEACH BUOY.
