Tuesday.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to the beach for an evening walk.
It was 7-15.
After a period of blowy but bright days, the evening's light breeze was almost perfect.
The southernmost access ramp was too busy for Beach Buoy's liking.
They accessed the beach via the low wall at the south end of The Esplanade.
They headed towards the sea.
Up in the dunes the sound of Jazz Music and a popping cork drifted down onto the beach.
Seaside photoshoot.
Not sure it was a fashion shoot or photographs for an upcoming wedding album?
Thankfully for them the breeze was pleasant.
A mysterious lady passed by.
Her trail of perfume was longer than her coat.
Perhaps her story was longer still?
A beach fisherman sat looking both thoughtfully and hopefully out to sea.
Houses rather than sea became the backdrop.
Again.
All but invisible until they moved, a lady and her dog left a driftwood seat behind, heading for the dunes.
The dog was a sandy-coloured Labrador.
The lady wore a sandy-coloured top and driftwood log coloured bottoms.
The fisherman returned to his seat / fishing box.
Hopeful once more.
Beach Buoy would have come further south to fish.
Another Dog had a sudden burst of energy.
She dug a hole then laid in it.
They continued south to the low level route and the Stack beyond.
Up at Stubborn Dog Stack.
The weather was perfect.
Beach Buoy stretched out his arms.
He said "Thank you." out loud.
If this was his last evening on earth.
This would do.
"Evening Mate."
It was 7-50.
Beach Buoy added five suitable stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He sat in the driftwood plank with plenty of rust.
It was a glorious evening.
The Skylarks sang.
The Sun shone.
The pleasant breeze blew.
A couple and their dog headed back to the north on the beach below.
The Happy Spaniel had been laid on the sand, playing with it's ball whilst sweeping the beach clean with it's wagging tail.
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach below.
To The Tees.
Ships head in from the horizon.
When the sea gives you exactly what you needed.
A project...
Not as long as expected.
The first ship was surprisingly short.
The Pilot's boat had taken the lead.
The Pilot will be aboard the Stubby Chubby Ship at the helm.
Head back.
The beach fisherman was still hopeful.
So lucky to have this on his doorstep.
Beach Buoy counted another blessing.
A cyclist pedalled to the water's edge, passing a Gormley style figure on the beach.
He tried to stand his bike up in the sand.
He stepped back.
The bike fell.
The sea came in.
He did a dance with exaggerated steps as his rescued his ride.
He tried once more.
It stayed balanced as he photographed it.
Beach Buoy returned to the van.
From the van, a smart-looking ship headed to sea.
BEACH BUOY.
