I am a night-owl, that goes without saying, but there is something to be said about late afternoon – early evening. Those final hours when the sun starts to slip back down below the horizon, and the world becomes shrouded in light that isn’t quite… an almost light.
Shadows begin to grow, reaching out, almost lazily as the sun slowly slips. Buildings, tree, bridges, all silhouette against that golden orb. It’s hard not to be romantic about such a thing, in these hours of almosts, and not quites, the world feels like it has potential, the harsh reality of the midday light has faded, nothing is concrete, everything adopts an air of the possible!
A tree is no longer just a tree, a building, no longer a building. The birds make their final calls, and if you just close your eyes for a few briefs moments, a real sense of calm, clarity and peace has blanketed the world.
And once the night falls, everything changes again. I love the dark, I love being awake when others aren’t, I love listening to the world sleeping, the odd car, a few late birds, now and then a plane. It amazes me every night, just how quiet the world can really be.
I love how light looks in the dark, candles become these great beacons of warmth and radiance, street lamps, with their dull yellow become almost eerie.
Day and Night, Light and Dark… such things are beautiful.