I have to be honest, I normally steer well clear of Trearddur, normally populated by hundreds of beachgoers, jet-skis, power boats, 4x4s on the sand, boat trailers and sailing dinghies. The small bay is surrounded on all sides by a hotchpotch of architecture, some interesting, some ghastly, but either way is not a place of peace, tranquility and natural landscape that I normally seek for my imagery.
However, during this lockdown I was able to witness a little bit of history, for even on this beautiful blue-sky day there were only a dozen people on the whole beach, and most kept close to the promenade. For the short period of time I was there, looking to create new images for a loyal customer, I had a small sense of how lovely the bay itself actually is, without the crowds. Long foamy pulses of Irish Sea waves pushed themselves up the broad sandy shore, licking their way around the stumps of petrified forest that I'd never seen before and never knew existed.
In the distance a dog walker wandered into the burning light and the call of oystercatchers could be heard over the sound of the waves. The virgin sand was mostly unspoiled by footprints and if it were not for the urban skyline I could have imagined myself on an ancient beach, nothing more than a stretch of coastline where the beautiful predictability of high & low tide were all that mattered in the world.