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© Copyright Glyn Davies 2009
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It was on a whim, a sudden urge at about 9.00 at night to drive to Anglesey's West Coast when really I could have stayed at home with a GinGin ! The light wasn't even spectacular and the late evening sun was already being curtained by dark clouds advancing from the horizon. A week before I'd been snorkelling here, fascinated by the sea creatures in the long narrow gullies of serrated rock. Tonight was different - no warmth of sunshine, no dancing sunbeams through the watery depths, no walkers strolling the headlands, just me, and the church on it's island bed. The sea was very obvioulsy coming in, rapidly, surging it's way along small creases and cervices running at right angles to the coast, channeling the tide quickly towards the shore.
The clouds were thickening rapidly and the light levels were diminishing accordingly. I set off for the church across the small bay and noticed the path-marking boulders becoming more and more significant as the water lapped around their base. The water was crystal clear, and shallow, but soone receded to darkness.
The gentlest pinks of an obscured sunset, washed the sky and dripped into the ocean, not for long though, and the pink turned to blue and then to black. An almost imperceptible splash of occassional waves broke the silence and the walk back to the van was a confusing blend of dry sand then shallow water, now at the back of the beach. I clambered over the last rocks and into the tungsten light of my warm van.
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