Between daylight and dark, that magical time arriving twice a day no matter where you are around the world. Seemingly created especially for artists and romantics, lovers and dreamers, idealists and philosophers. And everyone else who will pause for a moment or two to revel in nature’s most spectacular twice daily show.
Lost, yesterday, somewhere between sunrise and sunset, two golden hours, each set with sixty diamond minutes. No reward is offered for they are gone forever.
Technically, the golden hour, that period of time just before sunrise and just after sunset, when the sun is close to the horizon and its light is warmer, softer and more diffused. The colors of the clouds can be dramatic. From pale, pastel orange to bright, bold reds and fuchsias.
There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.
Sunsets seem to get more attention than sunrises. Could it be that far fewer of us are awake at sunrise.
I’m sure that is true in Key West, Florida, where sunsets are celebrated daily. Mallory Square is the site of the nightly festival replete with magicians and sword swallowers, psychics and musicians, artists and food vendors. And, of course, Dominique and his flying house cats.
Sunrises may get less notoriety, but it is not because of the lack of effort. They can be just as spectacular as a sunset. They just have a bad scheduling problem.
On the darker side of the Golden Hour is the Blue Hour, that twilight time when the sun is below the horizon and the indirect sunlight has a blue hue. The quality of the light can be dramatic and can produce stunning images.
The biggest cliche in photography is sunrise and sunset.
A sentiment I tend to agree with, although I am hopelessly enamored with nature’s show and continue to photograph it.