Monday morning.
Still alive.
It was windy but overnight rain will have dampened down the sand.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach access ramp at 6-32.
As they headed down, the lady with a red coat and a brown dog called Jasper came up.
They stopped for a short chat before going their own ways.
The sky was still full of night and rain.
The tide was way out.
The wind was from the south west and mild.
Beach Buoy collected five suitable stones.
There was no one ahead.
Beach Buoy shoved hands into pockets, heading south with his head in rain-filled clouds.
He glanced back to the north.
The 7 a.m. club were heading south too but would turn back early.
They did.
Beach Crows hopped around like dots of darkness.
The silhouette of one stood on a dune height.
King of the Castle.
A Castle made of sand.
Gulls flew overhead.
They resembled double pages of a discarded newspaper caught in the wind.
Each taking its own twists and turns.
The sharp edges of Beach Buoy's new beach boots made light work as he played beach bubble wrap once more.
The shells didn't stand a chance!
From shells and sea coal, to a rippled beach.
They made their way to the low level route.
Beach Buoy paused.
He realised an inner rush had kicked in.
He had a word with himself.
He changed down a gear and ambled along to Stubborn Dog Stack.
"Morning Mate."
It was 6-58.
He patted
THE
stone.
He added the five suitable stones.
He had a sit and think.
That distant factory buzzer sounded down river.
Even though the wind was favourable, Beach Buoy listens no more.
Billy New Boots.
"See you mate."
In the words of the excellent Nancy Sinatra...
They returned to the beach below.
Up ahead was Team One Black Ear.
They met up and returned north together.
Hugo took the lead.
He spotted Mr. Gunn/Lunn and Excellent Dog Alfie up ahead.
In time they all chatted.
As they left the beach, the Sun made a poor effort to show.
Sunshine shadows were nowhere to be seen.
BEACH BUOY.
