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Laughter in the Waves

In a streaming gale Jan and I crossed sand dunes to an almost deserted foam-strewn beach. The waves were heavy and fast and the wind was lifting and hurling foam creatures from the shoreline to the dunes, only avoiding splattering our faces thanks to slipstreaming! The sunlight was broken but when it burst through it was warm and rich, sparkling off the wet sand, backlighting oxygenated suds, waddling their way from the water margin. It was a bitterly cold air-stream sweeping down from the North, and poor Jan looked like a frozen rigid Chilli pepper in her new Paramo coat as I stumbled around on wave-soaked reefs. I was excited by the events in front of me but was ever conscious of my suffering slim companion. The spray was constant and when I looked towards the ancient burial chamber of Barclodiad y Gawres I could see horizontal sheets of spray contrasting with the brooding dark hillside. My lens was covered in spray within seconds and the thickness of salt meant that even specialist lens cloths were not effective at clearing off the saline coating - I accepted that today’s shots would be soft and droplet covered, and actually that no longer worries me these days, as atmosphere always beats detail. I balanced myself on a rock jutting from the pristine sand, ready to shoot the choppy sea but today again, I got caught out by one of those ‘tricksy’ seventh waves, which lifted to knee height which was already 18” above the beach, so this time I did get a boot-full of seawater but also a fun shot in the process - no award winner for sure but a great memory of a moment which had Jan laughing widely, even in her sub zero state :-)We walked on, my boot warming like a winter wetsuit and as I was already wet I resigned myself to further soakings as I haunched just an inch above wet sand to photograph a parade of the foamy suds. Finally we stood atop an isolated black crag in the center of this long sandy beach and we watched larger waves exploding over the offshore s

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Anglesey
In a streaming gale Jan and I crossed sand dunes to an almost deserted foam-strewn beach. The waves were heavy and fast and the wind was lifting and hurling foam creatures from the shoreline to the dunes, only avoiding splattering our faces thanks to slipstreaming! The sunlight was broken but when it burst through it was warm and rich, sparkling off the wet sand, backlighting oxygenated suds, waddling their way from the water margin. It was a bitterly cold air-stream sweeping down from the North, and poor Jan looked like a frozen rigid Chilli pepper in her new Paramo coat as I stumbled around on wave-soaked reefs. I was excited by the events in front of me but was ever conscious of my suffering slim companion. The spray was constant and when I looked towards the ancient burial chamber of Barclodiad y Gawres I could see horizontal sheets of spray contrasting with the brooding dark hillside. My lens was covered in spray within seconds and the thickness of salt meant that even specialist lens cloths were not effective at clearing off the saline coating - I accepted that today’s shots would be soft and droplet covered, and actually that no longer worries me these days, as atmosphere always beats detail. I balanced myself on a rock jutting from the pristine sand, ready to shoot the choppy sea but today again, I got caught out by one of those ‘tricksy’ seventh waves, which lifted to knee height which was already 18” above the beach, so this time I did get a boot-full of seawater but also a fun shot in the process - no award winner for sure but a great memory of a moment which had Jan laughing widely, even in her sub zero state :-)We walked on, my boot warming like a winter wetsuit and as I was already wet I resigned myself to further soakings as I haunched just an inch above wet sand to photograph a parade of the foamy suds. Finally we stood atop an isolated black crag in the center of this long sandy beach and we watched larger waves exploding over the offshore s
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