THE GOLDEN HOUR

I’ve heard that some film directors like filming at a particular time of the afternoon, when the light is just about as perfect as it gets.

I guess it works in California, because as I understand it, the weather is beautifully predictable there. The ‘Golden Hour’ will always be back tomorrow for another shoot.

Well. Here in Blighty, the rareness of a thing like the Golden Hour makes it even more valuable. And so right now, I’m sitting in it, despite the list of a million other things I ought to be doing.

I pushed through the translucent green leaves and stepped into the long, wavering grass. Every strand was glistening with silver, lit by the golden ball of sunshine that shines above the trees. The sky is bright and blue, the clouds lazily drift through the afternoon, and even I, sitting here as ever on my favourite park bench, must be side-lit, gilded by the glory today, in the slowly setting sun. It’s as though I’m in an Episode of Dawson’s Creek.

I wonder why it has to be so rare, this optimal lighting. Everything is still the same the rest of the time, it’s just the way you look at it changes, based on how it’s illuminated. One moment a thing looks plain and ordinary, the next it’s as though Midas himself crafted it with gold-spun fingers. There is a lot to be said for getting the right perspective.

I think it might be partly to do with how we light up things for those around us too. An excellent parent can make household chores a thrill, a boring trip like an incredible adventure. A keen poet can turn a cheesy idea into a heart-melting sonnet, given the right illumination.

The Golden Hour seems to me like kindness touching the Earth just as the gracious sun bids farewell to the day. A little paint, some low-angled, dust-catching sunbeams and everything in the world looks softer, rosier, gentler, quieter, nicer. Kindness does that, doesn’t it.

My prayer is that I’d learn how to do that well, rather than to seek it often. And who knows, if kindness gets reflected from the everyday things as they scintillate with gold, maybe it’ll feel like we’re all in Dawson’s Creek together.