Nature offers many gifts, too many to name. Some of my favorites have to do with lights and colors of early morning hours, including the blue hour, sunrise, and the golden hour. A couple days ago, I took a pre-dawn hike to enjoy those gifts. I was not disappointed.
The blue hour is a period before sunrise when the sky and all of nature around it looks blue. It’s hard to describe, but it is calm and serene. There is a sense of dreaminess, like coming out of a deep slumber, that is magical. In fact, some people (like photographers) call it the “magical hour.”
Immediately after the blue hour is sunrise. As the sky brightens and the first rays from the sun begin to crack the horizon, the blue hour changes from steel to sapphire to sky blue. The process is truly magical. Other shades take over the landscape and clouds deepen in color.
If there are low-hanging clouds near the rising sun, colors can vary, and soft lights deepen into a fiery radiance brushed across the sky.
The golden hour follows sunrise. The lights cast on the landscape are soft. The sun’s rays beam through trees, casting natural light that bathes everything in a warm glow. If you’ve ever seen someone who was photographed during the golden hour, you might have noticed how beautiful it makes skin tone. It reminds me of blowing out candles on a birthday cake. The face behind the candles looks soft. Happy. Young. Alive.
The morning I ventured to hike up a favorite hill, I arrived in time to enjoy the dark sky brightening as the blue hour began to vanish. I wanted to go to the top of the hill before sunrise and I was cutting it close.
Even though I walked quickly, I enjoyed the calmness of nature on my way up the hill, marveling how the blues and faint slate colors, hinting at purple, dominated. Where the sun was preparing to make its daily debut, the cloud colors were deepening from pale pinks and oranges to dark tangerine and created the look of fire in the sky.
I was deep in blue hour peace when a loud noise startled me. I had been so focused on enjoying my surroundings and the quiet calmness of early morning, I didn’t expect to be sharing the woods with anyone (or anything) else. It turned out to be two “anythings.” Grouse. I must have alarmed them as well, because they flushed from their cover with a burst of noise, wings pounding the air. They flew in different directions, and I found myself alone again, although a little less calm.
It didn’t take long for nature to re-soothe my soul. It’s a wonderful thing, isn’t it, how nature can lower blood pressure and calm the mind? It’s a fantastic gift, the way nature can affect the body and brain. But that is another post, so I’ll continue with my uphill climb to watch the sunrise …
I got to the top of the hill before the sun rose and waited. My anticipation changed with the colors in the sky. There’s something exciting about watching the sun come up. There is hope on the horizon. A new beginning. Another day.
Purple clouds hung like a halo above the fireball rising in the east. The first flames of the day licked upward as the bright star showed itself in measured time, until it was fully visible.
The sun was a brilliant ball of gas and that morning, as it crested its own hill, I could not take my eyes from it. When I finally looked away, I could still see it. Colorful dots in my vision. Not the sun itself, but a result of my looking at it. Everywhere I looked, the sun. It took some time for the sun-spotting to leave, but I’m sure I prolonged it by glancing at the orb from time-to-time.
Honestly, I don’t recommend looking directly into the sun. My mother warned me several times not to do this, and I’m sure it is backed by science that you can damage your eyes by the practice. But that sunrise!
Just as the sun made its full debut, the honk of geese flying in the distance broke the silence. It was as if they were shouting good morning to the Earth and the sky and the world, and me! Everything seemed magnificent at that moment.
I marveled at my bird visitors that morning. The grouse, the geese … I was happy to be sharing the wonders of nature with such beautiful creatures. I prepared for the next phase of my morning gift: the golden hour.
From the top of the hill, the colors were warm, and clouds were still brilliantly hued, but I wasn’t getting the full effect of gold. I decided to descend the hill and walk to a lake, just at the base of my high spot.
On my way down, I thought about pre-sunset colors, also a golden hour, and how I’ve noticed the evening colors, warm and glowing, seem richer than during morning. I tried to remember paying attention to the golden hour post-sunrise and wasn’t sure I had ever been intentional about it. Maybe it wasn’t as brilliant as I had hoped.
When I got to the bottom of the hill, I turned along the woods and walked toward my destination, the lake. I was walking in complete shade and any golden gifts that may have been present were hidden from my view. As I rounded a stand of birch and pines, I saw the lake. Then, I saw the trees lining the lake on an uphill slope, reaching all the way up to the area I had just been.
The golden colors cast on the treetops along the west side of that lake were magnificent. I was mesmerized and stood starting at the illuminated forest. It cast its own color on the lake, creating a mirror image of a golden hour gift.
Absolutely stunning.
When I finally turned and headed for my car, I smiled at the sense of gratitude that welled up in me. Once again, nature had freely given me gifts that no money can buy. Gifts that are offered to anyone who is willing to receive them.
Blue hour. Sunrise. Golden hour.
Amazing, colorful, beautiful, magical gifts!
