Saturday morning.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 6-36.
The sound of chattering Little Tens filled the air.
A warm wind blew from the west.
Rain seemed to be falling out on the horizon?
Gannets flew close to the sea.
To the north, a wooden post had been stood upright in the sand.
Beach Buoy collected five suitable stones.
He stopped to chat to the 7 a.m. club.
Warm wind and Gannets the topics of the day.
Team One Black were heading back to the north.
Shoes off, ankle deep in the sea.
They chatted.
The tide was well in, just turned.
The sea was heading out.
It left a blank canvas for them to write their footprint story on.
Little Terns worked the water's edge.
Grass and shadow on the low level route.
Sand Martins swooped overhead.
Stubborn Dog Stack.
It was 7-12.
Beach Buoy added five suitable stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He sat on the driftwood plank with plenty of rust.
The bay was full of summer.
Rubes.
Gulls rafted.
Gannets soared and swooped.
He sat watching the ripple sea head out into the bay.
Team Muzzled Dog arrived at Stubborn Dog stack.
They had an excellent chat.
Team Muzzled Dog continued south.
Beach Buoy watched Little Terns drop into the sea.
Skylarks sang.
The man with the small black dog, headed south on the beach below.
They shared not too distant waves.
"Morning!"
"Morning. Windy but warm."
"See you mate."
They returned to the beach below.
Gannet.
Gannet.
Head back.
Not not Beach Buoy and his little dog headed to The Esplanade just ahead of them.
BEACH BUOY.
