Sunday.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog arrived at the beach car park.
It was 5-32.
The cyclist was taking up his usual position at the south end of Esplanade.
A photographer stood by the wreck, waiting for the sunrise.
He would come away empty handed.
Empty that is apart from his camera and tripod.
A couple with two dogs stood by the sea, hopeful too.
Seaton Carew Village.
There was a slight breeze with a chill from the north.
The ex army man and his Border Collie where heading south at the water's edge, to the north.
A man was heading south along the strand-line.
The man was carrying what looked like half a tree on his back.
Another Dog put the brakes on.
Typical.
She watched the man approach.
Once the man was close enough, Beach Buoy explained that the dog didn't like people walking behind.
" It must thinking who's this ****ing idiot carrying that along the beach."
The man explained that he and his friends had set up camp near the dune edge.
The wood was for the campfire.
"For our beans for breakfast."
Beach Buoy looked at the massive piece of wood.
He wondered what the bean to firewood ratio was?
The man went on to share an encounter that he had just had...
"Went along there to get this wood.
There was a bloke in the dunes, blood all over his face.
I **** myself!
He was OK.
He just got a good kicking last night."
As the fisherman headed off to his camp, the ex army man joined Beach Buoy on his walk.
His nineteen year old Border Collie Skye was at his side.
The gentleman has adopted Stubborn Dog Stack.
That's fine.
He was heading up there today too.
He was remembering a19 year old Norwegian Soldier who had died on this day in Afghanistan.
Beach Buoy was told many stories as they walked.
Fishing rods waiting for an incoming tide.
They passed by as they headed to Stubborn Dog Stack.
The tide was still well out.
Birds overhead.
"6-10 a.m.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy patted
THE
stone.
He added five suitable stones.
The other chap took out a marker pen, writing names in various places.
He stood talking to his ex army companion for almost an hour.
Team One Black Ear came and went on the beach below.
Distant waves were shared.
The Beachcombing Border Collie Couple came and went.
The lady with a red coat and a brown dog called Jasper came and went too.
.jpg)
Birds flew over the Sea Serpent Marker as they talked.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog set off southwards.
He left the man to drink his bottle of Irn Bru Extra as he sat on the driftwood seat with an elevated view.
He could remember his friend in peace.
A Ship left the river.
It headed for the light like a lost soul.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to Sand Martin Corner.
Have they gone?
It looked like they had?
Fishermen headed along North Gare Pier in reddiness for the high tide.
Soon the Pier end was becoming crowded.
Light shone on the righteous.
Beach Buoy found a fishing rod up on the grey rocks.
He carried it along the beach.
The bean-eating Fishermen could have it.
It had been many years since Beach Buoy had held a fishing rod.
It felt surprisingly both comfortable and comforting.
He hadn't been fishing since his Father died in 1982 at 56.
They headed back just in time.
The sea was about to kiss the grey rocks.
The beach access to Sand Martin Corner would soon be gone.
Team Muzzled Dog came along.
"Caught anything?"
"Just finishing rod."
They chatted before going their own way.
Beach Buoy approached the fishermen's camp.
It was too tense.
Correction, it was two tents.
The wood carrier was inside, possibly eating beans.
Another fisherman sat on a driftwood seat, looking at his phone.
Beach Buoy approached.
The man stood up.
Beach Buoy held out the nine foot long rod.
"Just found this near the Pier.
Any use to you?"
The man took hold of it to examine the offering.
"Cheers. It'll do for the bairn."
"No bother."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog continued their way back.
As they walked the strand-line they passed different coloured roses lying on the sand.
A floral tribe thrown on to the sea only for it to be returned to land
They headed to the access ramp.
A young lady came down with her Spaniel.
The friendly dog ran over to Beach Buoy and Another Dog.
It was the most unusual Spaniel that Beach Buoy had seen.
The young lady shouted "Woody!"
"He's ok. What wonderful colour."
"Yes he is a bit of a mixed bag."
The name did make sense.
The different browns and black in its coat did look like tree bark.
BEACH BUOY.
