These pictures were taken at sunset on a beach in West Sussex. Every so often I come across light which is, for want of a better word, odd. But odd in a good way. On this evening the light gave everything around a painterly look. The soft hues blended seamlessly, bathing the sand, waves, and sky in a gentle, almost surreal glow. Shadows stretched long and delicate, adding depth and texture that seemed to breathe life into the scenery. It was one of those rare moments when nature’s own palette transforms a familiar place into something truly extraordinary, inviting you to pause and appreciate the subtle beauty that often goes unnoticed.

These pictures were taken at sunset on a beach in West Sussex. Every so often I come across light which is, for want of a better word, odd. But odd in a good way. On this evening the light gave everything around a painterly look, as if nature itself had reached for a brush and softened every edge.

When I was younger, I lived in Bradford in West Yorkshire. The city is home to Cartwright Hall art gallery, known for its fine collection of work by L.S. Lowry – he of the matchstick men. I’d never been a great fan of his work; however, when seen in a northern city with many of its satanic mill buildings still intact, it made more sense. The stark yet evocative figures captured the rhythm and grit of urban life.

The figures in my photographs below reminded me of Lowry, hence the title of my collection. There’s something quietly human in their forms, silhouetted against the soft, diffused glow of the Sussex sunset, echoing Lowry’s own timeless scenes. It’s a reminder that sometimes, light can transform not just a landscape, but the way we perceive the stories within it.