Malltraeth, Anglesey.

There are days when the beach feels like it’s holding its breath. The tide had gone out, leaving a clean sheet of wet sand that mirrored the sky more perfectly than any lens. A bank of cloud sat low across the land — brooding, but still — while above it, the tops of cumulus clouds caught the last warmth of the sun.

Over the mountains, a break in the cloud opened just wide enough to let a ball of light pour through, shining onto the land like a quiet offering.

For a moment, it felt as though the earth and sky had made a gentle agreement — not to move, not to speak, just to reflect each other in peace.