Tuesday evening.
Just Paul.
A strong wind blew from the north west.
It was around 6-34.
It carried the smell of fish and chips along the beach.
The Litter Pick Lady was doing a grand job in the strong wind.
The tide was just about to clear the wreck.
It sits in the seasonal dog ban area.
No dog today.
To the south, a Dad and lad litter picked too.
Beach Buoy headed south.
He collected five suitable stones.
Shifting sand went they way of the fish and chips aroma.
The Church Bells rang for 6-45.
Their sounds followed the shifting sands.
The beach to the south was Beach Buoy's.
He stood looking out to sea as though he owned it.
7-01.
"Evening Mate."
Beach Buoy added five stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
He topped up the wildlife water bowl.
He sat on the driftwood seat with an elevated view.
He watched clouds go by like a circus parade.
"See you mate."
Back to the van.
He had found treasure.
BEACH BUOY.
