Saturday.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog arrived at 6-27 a.m.
A man who regularly comes to the beach car park was on The Esplanade.
He has a small brown dog.
They don't go on the beach.
The man has a ball launcher.
The little dog scampers along after each launched ball.
"Morning."
"Morning Bud."
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed down the access ramp for the beach.
A Cyclist was leaning on the Esplanade wall, at the south end.
"Morning."
"Morning."
It was mild and slightly muggy.
It was a milky sky and sea.
What slight breeze there was came from the south west.
Beach Buoy stooped to collect five stones that were suitable for Stubborn Dog Stack.
A mist seemed to hang over the water's edge to the south.
The Beachcombing Border Collie Couple were heading back to the ramp.
Hopefully they had plenty of finds.
Their Border Collie seemed more than happy with its driftwood stick
In between power struggle stops, they headed south.
She just stops and stares.
Beach Buoy stayed clear of the strand line.
The number of dead sea birds was too distressing.
It was mid-power struggle when the man who once had four dogs passed by with three.
"Morning."
"Morning. It doesn't look like she wants to go much further?
Beach Buoy admired the light to the south, over Saltburn way as he stood waiting for Another Dog to move.
For the first time ever, Beach Buoy felt sad that she wouldn't walk with him.
She seemed to pick up on the feeling and began to trot alongside.
That was the last tug of war that day.
Team One Black Ear were up ahead.
MIlo, the Borrowed Dog came trotting over first.
Once more a purple and green Scooby-doo ball was dropped at Beach Buoy's feet.
The ball was thrown.
The others arrived.
They chatted.
News shared.
The 7 a.m. club not doing his usual walk.
Walking with a stick at the moment, possibly due to a sand related twist of the ankle?
Beach Buoy and Another Dog walked the low level route.
"Morning Mate."
It was 7-24.
He patted
THE
stone.
He added five more to the stack.
He had a sit and think.
Shoes in hand.
Ankle deep in water when the sea decides.
A man headed north.
He wore his baseball cap back to front, his little dog followed at a distance... Discuss...Possible 15 marks.
It was so calm.
The Sand Martins had gone,
The Skylarks had long fell silent.
Beach Buoy could live up here.
When at work, he would joke with his mate Geoff.
Beach Buoy would ask much it would cost to have a converted shipping container placed near the stack by helicopter?
"They won't let you.
They will make you move it." always came the reply.
On the beach below, Team Muzzled Dog walked and jogged.
The lady with Rocko the Pug and a cartoon toe gave a distant wave from the waters edge.
It was returned.
It turns out that Rocko is another borrowed dog.
Team Muzzled arrived at Stubborn Dog Stack from the beach below.
They had a lovely chat.
Beach Buoy stood.
"See you mate."
They returned to the sands.
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The temperature felt perfect.
The lady with a white dog and a black dog headed south by the sea.
As the walk ended, the sky cracked.
Sunlight appeared.
To the north, the receding tide had delivered the wreck once more.
Back at the van, the sound of the 8-30 Village Church Bells rang.
Like a Fog horn, the bells are both comforting and reassuring.
BEACH BUOY.
