These are certainly pressing and consequential concerns, and there is lyricism in the play’s unfolding sense of time, from the daily to the generational to the geological. But the beats of the domestic drama through which this catastrophe is refracted are often contrived. The dramatic tension is propelled by conveniently antagonistic exchanges, and exposition is overstated.

It gestures towards deeper, more provocative issues such as the burden of environmental consciousness and the imperatives and sacrifices (and indeed the privileges) of activism. But despite its expanded timeframe, the narrative compacts too much into its two acts, and the rich potential of these themes feel underexplored as dramatic detail is elided.

The committed cast do well to fill the gaps. Parry’s matriarchal Gwen is an impassioned foil for Elfyn’s more curmudgeonly, sceptical tendencies. Catrin Aaron as their daughter Claire, with Alfie Llewellyn and a particularly effective Eirlys Lovell-Jones as grandchildren Phillip and Rhiannon sustain a convincing if sometimes inexplicably brusque family dynamic, which Sara Otung as Phillip’s girlfriend Astrid mollifies with a quiet dignity.

Directed by Guy Jones, the production occupies a register that is hesitant to be a documentary but insufficiently figurative to be global. As a result, through its cariads and taids and cwtchs, one feels that Wales is sentimentalised as a timeless land of myths and legends, instead of a modern nation that – like every other country with coastline – will have to make decisions about what to do with climate collapse lapping at its shores.