'Christmas doesn't seem as mixed up as it sometimes does.' thought Beach Buoy as he readied himself and Stubborn Dog for the beach.
It was Sunday.
It felt like a Sunday.
Some years, the days all feel mixed up.
It was Sunday.
It felt like Sunday.
Beach Buoy had been pacing around, coffee in hand, checking the light situation down towards the beach through a long narrow window.
There was no view of the sea, even in daylight, just of the sky in the direction of the beach.
It was always a bit of a guide as to what to expect once that the short journey there was completed.
Stubborn Dog slept soundly as all of the pacing and pondering was going on.
The dog usually follows Beach Buoy everywhere.
Beach Buoy had noticed that the dog was growing older and every now and again he could actually leave a room without a curious dog for company, as the dog was sound asleep and maybe its hearing was going a little?.
It would last a minute or two then a bed-head dog would pop its head around a corner, sensing Beach Buoy had moved location, looking at Beach Buoy as if to say
'No chance mate.'
They pulled into a cold dark car park at 7-40 am.
A Police van and a Police car were parked side by side.
The drivers sat in their vehicles and talked through open windows to one another.
The vehicles had their engines running and headlights on, pointing to the promenade wall and out to sea beyond, like a couple of latter-day ship wreckers.
Beach Buoy and Stubborn Dog headed for the sea.
Stubborn Dog went on strike early on into the sea-bound walk.
Once more Beach Buoy scooped him up.
The dog was loving life , looking at an upside down world.
The dog's back feet swayed from side to side as Beach Buoy walked.
Feet that looked like a rabbit's back legs.
Big Thumper-type feet.
The tide was well out this morning.
It was chillier out on the open beach.
Beach Buoy pulled up two hoods.
Stubborn Dog was already sporting three layers and a cuddle.
Finally the little dog was willing to walk.
They continued south as a lady jogger passed by, heading north.
She was dressed to match the scene out at sea; dark blue bottoms , light blue top.
A distant unseen dog barked up ahead, Stubborn Dog paused momentarily.
They went to examine some driftwood.
It was a piece of hardwood, very heavy, too heavy.
It would have made a smashing bench for outside "That." shack.
Where Beach Buoy would sit and watch the tide come and go, over and over and over again, then let time and one day, the sea wash over him a final time.
The low cloud that hung over The Cleveland Hills meant that a visible sunrise would be delayed.
The clear sky above that cloud, promised a bright start to the day soon enough.
They headed up and stacked Stubborn Dog stack.
During the night the wind and rain had been a little wild.
Some of the stack's height had been claimed by shifting sands.
Two beach regulars went by.
The lady walked with two sticks and a tall man.
They returned to the beach, passing the grey rocks, they headed to North Gare Pier Corner. Its sand bank is home to Sand Martins during the warmer months.
Dog walkers walked to the Pier, turning 180 degrees they spun around and returned to the north.
A fisherman headed for the pier end.
Beach Buoy had seen a fisherman yesterday, heading for the Pilot Pier on the Headland.
Yesterday was windy, the fisherman looked like a giant mobile asterisk * as his rods and rest splayed out at all angles as he struggled in the strong wind.
They beachcombed in North Gare Corner.
The previous night's rough weather had certainly altered the lie of the land and sand.
Shingle steps where there was none yesterday.
They began a slow walk back to the north as the sun fully cleared the low cloud.
Tall sunshine shadows led the way.
The beach became busier.
Some grasped a little solitude while they were still able to as the newcomers headed to the sun like moths to a flame..
Someone is happy.
Written in sand.
Gone in a few hours but in their minds always.
Good Luck.
Beach Buoy spotted this partial circle and thought that it would make a good photograph.
Maybe give it an Arty Farty name
like
Full Circle (Almost.)
.,... and there to the right is a dog taking a dump.
Funny really when you think about it.
Its owner is on the left bag in hand.
Beach Buoy sat in the van with a coffee and a Stubborn Dog as The Hungry Seagull set up shop.
A couple headed North on the Promenade.
The man wore bright red trainers.
Beach Buoy wondered if he would rather be at home.
A couple parked their car, out came a lovely, if scruffy looking dog.
It was a amass of grey. it looked like it had been drawn by every different shade/ grade of pencil.
Beach Buoy hoped the dog's name was Scribble or at a push Doddle.
An elderly couple read the recently placed advertising sign for The Hungry Seagull.
DOG ICE CREAM
Gets tails wagging.
They looked at one another and headed off.
BEACH BUOY.
