Where all evil from the night is being washed away.
An Angel, the Sun, awakening from slumber to light the shadowy land.
In photographic terms, the golden hours are the best times to take warm, soft photos. You wonder why people photograph sunsets and sunrises all the time? Why can anyone take a photo of it and the picture will be magnificent? Because these are the two hours – the first hour of light and the last – where the light is typically more diffused. But that’s not why I love sunrise.
You and I would run away to wherever our adventure waits.
Everyone dreams of great romances. Ones of fairy tales and great fiction. And we are told time and time again that they are impossible to fulfil. Me being me, asks why?
Why can’t we achieve the great? The magnificent? The purely beautiful?
There comes a point where you begin to fall from your high. The come down.
It’s a gradual process starting with one tiny knock that will send you spiralling down. It starts with the occasional five minutes of sadness. Then it escalates to weeping all of a sudden late at night when you realise there’s no one there to talk to. Soon, it begins to take over your life. It’s harder to get up in the morning. You have no motivation to do anything. All you want to do is lie in bed, hiding under your duvet away from the big bad world. You burst out into tears and cry uncontrollably for a few minutes, and then you’re fine.
