Monday morning.
7-53.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog stood on the Esplanade.
The elderly gent with a pointy hat and a determined walking stick was heading back to the north after reaching his goal of the south end wall of the Esplanade.
It is both a target and a turning point for many.
"Morning."
"Morning."
There was a light breeze from the north.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to the beach.
He collected five suitable stones.
No torch required.
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They headed south.
The sound of the village church bells travelled the beach, informing all that it was now 8 a.m.
The man with no dog but a pocketful of sweets headed south.
He passed the slope to the midget gem mine.
He carried onto the low level route and beyond.
Beach Buoy figured that he must have supplies.
Perhaps one pocket stuffed with midget gems and another with sports mixtures?
That would explain his route.
Team One Black Ear and Team Muzzled Dog caught up.
They greeted one another.
Beach Buoy and Another Dog headed to Stubborn Dog Stack,
It was 8-18.
A Crow, possibly THE crow landed on the tallest giant pencils.
Beach Buoy added the five suitable stones.
He patted
THE
stone.
The crow watched and waited.
Beach Buoy had a short sit and think on a wind-dried driftwood seat with an elevated view.
"See you mate."
Before leaving, he scattered some seeds for the Crow.
Beach Buoy thought about how easily "a thing" becomes "a thing."
with animals where food is involved.
A ship headed to the river.
They headed back to the north.
Up ahead, dogs raced to the sea.
If one was looking out through a window, they would think it was a cold day.
What grey sea and sky and white waves breaking
In reality it was mild and wonderful.
An excited tiny brown and white Spaniel ran to the sea.
The big waves dwarfed him.
Beach Buoy stopped to chat to Mr. Gunn/Lunn and Excellent Dog Alfie.
As they chatted, a Young Labrador came down the beach access ramp.
It was doing more of a wag than a walk.
BEACH BUOY.
