Tuesday Afternoon.
It was still wild.
Beach Buoy went to the beach alone once more.
He parked in Seaton Park at 2-17.
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The access ramp near the beach huts was as wild as this morning's
He headed to the steps.
They were almost as bad.
Most of the steps were buried in sand.
The beach tractor was fighting a losing battle as the driver tried to stop the wind-blown sand piling up against the Esplanade Wall.
Beach Buoy headed to the wreck.
Walking wet sand was the safer option.
Sea Pottery.
Maybe a Cuckoo?
Beach Buoy would take it to Stubborn Dog Stack.
A river of shifting sand headed to the Village and the Tractor Driver.
Beach Buoy stood on the low level route, watching the river flow.
"Afternoon Mate."
it was 3-02.
Beach Buoy patted
THE
stone.
He added the five that were suitable.
This morning's sheltered seed had gone.
He left more.
"See you mate."
The sea was wild.
The walk was a wind-assisted doddle.
The shifting sand had made more Tractor work.
It looked like the beach and the Esplanade would soon be level.
Up the steps and gone.
BEACH BUOY
