A warm drive, Radio 2 playing on the van radio, no particular destination in mind, just driving. I found myself at Y Fali crossroads and turned North. I hesitated, pulled onto a rough verge and studied the Ordnance Survey 1:25000 map. I was in no hurry, at this time of year the afternoon sun would be bright for hours, the golden moments hours away, before the green flash is seen.
"The Mark of Worro" © Glyn Davies 2010
The gurgling brook trickled into stony silence today, but the knee high waves slapped the thighs of the shore in a comforting rhythm. The wind was blowing Easterly again today, and with it a coolness against the Westerly sunshine, but not too cool. I stripped off for a paddle and a sunbathe and the water was soothingly cool around my legs. Evening seemed an age away. I tucked into half a packet of Custard Creams which I washed down with apple juice an felt an unhealthy satisfaction :-) I felt the urge to rock climb but soon found the razor sharp cup holds on the overhanging face of black rock too sharp to handle, so my unfit body happily retired back down the face after just 12 feet or so!
"Stone Trek" © Glyn Davies 2010
Enough playtime, never the same without a companion, and so instead to photography, where solitude feeds the creative process, for me anyway. On the hot beach the rocks were dry, sandy, pale masks of what lies beneath, but where the dancing waves splash across their faces they come to life, they glow and sparkle, rich in colour.
"Flush" © Glyn Davies 2010
With hundreds, maybe a thousand boulders on the beach, most high above the water line, they all looked the same and it was very hard to assess which ones were calling to me, but some did. I found an empty plastic drinks bottle, one of hundreds on this wind-drift collection point, and filled it with sea water. I lovingly and gently poured the fluid over the curves of the boulders, rich colour oozing out from the dusty make up, veins protruding from the smooth bellies of rock. I had to ensure they were kept wet as their internal heat was so high that they soon dried up. I continued to spill water on them until I had completely finished and had them captured. I moved from siren to siren until an embarrassed sun hid behind a semi-transparent sheet of cloud.
"A Winkle in His Eye" © Glyn Davies 2010
At this point I made my way back to my starting point and became mesmerised by the waves themselves, the shy sunshine now dancing upon their shoulders as they crashed to the shore. The beach was now virginal again, smooth, untouched, unmarked save for the gentle channels formed by retreating waves. I was alone on this deserted beach, it was paradise.
"Two Light Waves" © Glyn Davies 2010
Thank God there still remain places here on this small Isle of Anglesey where you can escape the crowds and be at peace. As the tide dropped further it sucked the moisture from the curvaceous sand bar, and with it the light reflections. A central core of sunlight pulled me into the water, into the deep and into happiness.
All words and images on this post are strictly copyrighted to © Glyn Davies 2010
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