Agua clara, clear water, clean frames, no gimmicks. Miami Beach again, a row of those pale blue Art Deco buildings stacked up behind her, big soft clouds, and Lashay stretched out on a towel in the sand with one foot kicked up behind her. Black one-piece, red lips, hand in the hair. Simple.

I shot it low, down at sand level, so the buildings and sky pile up behind and she runs right across the frame. The light was doing me a favor that day, hazy and even, no harsh shadows to fight. Half of beach work is just showing up when the sky is being generous.

No tricks here, and that’s the point. A clean set ages better than a clever one, every time. Lashay in good light against a good backdrop, comfortable enough to look like she’d lie there all afternoon. The kind of frame that still holds up precisely because it never tried too hard.