Portishead

The lighthouse sits on the headland at Portishead Point, reached by a metal catwalk extending over the rocks. It is a working lighthouse, not decommissioned, the Bristol Channel in front of it. On a day with cumulus cloud building from the southwest the light is theatrical — the lighthouse tower white against dark cloud, the sea horizon beyond. You wait for the cloud to arrange itself and then you work quickly.

The swans arrived without warning. I saw them coming and had to rapidly adjust — shutter speed up, reframe, track them against the grey sky over the channel. Several frames, maybe useful, maybe not. The shots where they are against cloud rather than sky have more weight.

The Open Air Pool is around the headland, its bold orange and white geometry intact. This is mid-century infrastructure stranded by changed habits. The tiered seating in orange and white, the railings, the deep-end signage still on the poolside wall. It reads as abstract colour composition until you understand what you're looking at. Then it reads as that and as time.

Weathered planters with golden-coloured foliage clipped to the coastal fence. These are not important. They are just there, domestic and specific, at the edge of a view that goes all the way to Wales.

The catwalk to the lighthouse, the channel behind it, the sea.