The Gilding of the Gliding

That magical time known as the Golden Hour seems to give everything, not just color, an extra fillip of beauty. Colors do, indeed, become warmer and more saturated when the sun is at such a low angle to the horizon as its place near dawn and dusk, but there is so much more to the mystical powers of those fleeting moments that it is a great treasure to be still in them and let the wonder fill me. At such times I feel more connected to nature and everything around me seems more in tune, better adjusted, and I feel that I am, too.
Photo: The Golden Hour

How can the mere angle of the sun turn a scrubby lawn into finely cut velvet? The touch of gilt on the scene makes every ounce of it seem that much more precious and valuable. The bejeweled day, in turn, makes the simplest action in it take on significance it never had before: the chattering of birds in the trees becomes a miniature angelic choir; the dipping of oars in the water turns from a quiet splashing to the whispering of poetry; the evening breeze that gently stirs shore grass becomes a delicate communiquΓ© from the harmonic internal logic of the universe, and I am at one with it all. As the golden hour ripples through my environs and begins to permeate me, I almost feel as if I am gliding along their silky way right in sync with the rowboats nearby, waving fluidly as the grasses on the verge, tipping my wings with the evening birds to slide onto the branches of the trees. I am at peace with the world, and the world, with me. That is golden indeed.

21 thoughts on “The Gilding of the Gliding

  1. Well, reading this was like a meditation in itself Kathryn, beautiful. This is exactly how I feel when I can sit in ny garden. The connectedness with nature seems to have become distanced with the busyness of the modern world; we need to reel ours lves in again and start taking an active part in where we actually belong. xx

    • Did you also learn to sing that verse as a round? And now that you’ve mentioned them, does anyone do autograph books anymore? I certainly had one. Our Auntie Ingeborg (https://artcoloredglasses.com/2012/05/17/you-have-a-lovely-forehead/), that wonderful giver of books, once even gave us a hilarious book of old-school bits like that specifically taken from and designed for vintage autograph books. Wish I had it now. YY U R YY U B I C U R YY 4 ME. And these young whippersnappers think they invented texting and truncated codes! πŸ˜‰ πŸ˜€ I *did*, however, stop using the autograph book when we entered into the era of Slam Books, the forerunner of Trolls and Flaming and the likeβ€”too bad we didn’t stop with the inventions when they were still silly and playful.

    • I take advantage of it too seldom, since I am too often to be found holed up eating or blogging at the eventide Golden Hour and nearly *always* in bed at the morning one (when not in the car on the way to something I’m reluctantly up EARLY for)! πŸ˜‰ But it certainly does lend itself to the best light and color saturation and shadow-play. πŸ˜€

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