Porth Tyn Tywyn, Llanfaelog, Anglesey

The end of one of those crisp, cold and clear winter days where the light is so vivid at sunset. I waited for the last of the light to slip below the horizon. I’d been watching the waves break for a while, waiting for the moment when the colour met the motion just right. The sea was constant but never still — a kind of slow exhale, washing back over the sand.

A one second exposure was enough to smooth the movement, but not erase it. You can still feel the rhythm in the water — not loud, but certain. A whisper rather than a roar.