Friday morning.
Beach Buoy had woke around 5-18.
Then again, he hadn't gone to bed until after 1-30.
He and Another Dog reached the beach car park at 6-22 a,m,
The Beach combing Border Collie Couple were up ahead.
The beach tractor rattled as it collected beach stones.
It was overcast.
There was a fresh breeze from the east.
By the time that Beach Buoy had collected five suitable stones,
the Beachcombers were heading back,
A Seal was just about to go back into the sea.
They sometimes fall asleep on the high tide line.
When they wake the sea has gone.
It can be a long haul.
The Beachcombing Collie was sniffing the seal track as they passed back to the north.
A ship headed for the river.
Driftwood.
Twisted like a tortured soul,
Team One Black Ear came from the north.
They chatted.
As they did so, Rocko the Pug came along.
The lady wasn't jogging today.
She told the story of how she dropped something heavy on her foot and has
"A cartoon toe."
They all went their own ways.
The lady with a red coat and a brown dog called Jasper passed by at a distance.
Fittingly distant waves were shared.
Sadly, Beach Buoy had counted fifteen dead Guillemots .
He would report the birds to DEFRA later that day.
The man who once had for dogs went by with three.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed for the low level route.
A Crow stood on nearby piece of driftwood as though waiting for a password.
Another Dog flashed her access all areas badge.
7-10.
"Morning Mate."
Beach Buoy patted
THE
stone.
He added the five suitable stones.
He had a sit and think as the Surf Rake Tractor delivered more stones that he been collected from the day tripper zone.
Three Cormorants flew northwards, close to the surface of the sea.
Rocko and the lady with the cartoon toe headed back to the north,
"See you mate."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog were going to continue southwards.
Team Muzzled Dog gave a distant wave which was returned.
Not all of the Tank Traps have been battered by seas.
Some hide up in the safety of the dunes.
Out on the end of North Gare Pier, a fisherman stands.
It looked like his gear was packed up?
Either just arrived or just about to head home?
Shortly afterwards, Beach Buoy watched him walk the length of the Pier.
Home it was.
Sand Martins!
Beach Buoy had thought that they had gone?
Perhaps these were from further north, working their way south?
There seemed to be around a dozen or so?
They began to return to the north.
The temperature seemed to drop a little, perhaps rain was on the way?
Up ahead, a man and dog played ball by the sea.
The tractor trundled back to the north, following its own tracks as if they were rails.
Beach Buoy thinks he knows why.
Out in the bay a Gull did a perfect air surf.
It travelled inside the curve of a wave.
It turned with the tilt of a wing at the very last second as the wave broke.
Beach Buoy and Another dog walked the tracks back to the Village,
He resisted the urge to make tractor noises as they went.
Up ahead, long clouds looked like folded bedding,
