Golden Hour

I look up from my computer, the front room of my west facing home suddenly aglow. Wheat colored rays pierce through the blinds that cover the front window, washing over the room. Cool white natural light, now warm and golden. The temperature remains the same, but warmth washes over me. A sweet illusion on a cold winter’s day, welcome.

Shadows dance on the wall as a tree outside flutters, disturbed by the sharp wind, whipping and unforgiving. It won’t be long now before darkness will overtake this lighted sanctuary, and the shadows will disappear into a temporary void.

If you like this moment of reflection, you may also like Where The Tide Speaks.

One thought on “Golden Hour”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

To respond on your own website, enter the URL of your response which should contain a link to this post's permalink URL. Your response will then appear (possibly after moderation) on this page. Want to update or remove your response? Update or delete your post and re-enter your post's URL again. (Find out more about Webmentions.)