The golden hour on a summer evening is just glorious. The day is nearly done, but rather than fading slowing into grey, it explodes in a rush of beautiful light. As though it doesn’t want to be forgotten and would very much like a round of applause as it exits stage west.

The view from my kitchen and living area enchants me frequently with the golden light casting its fiery glow on trees in my garden – especially the apples on the East fence, their fruit hiding in the shadows – and the eucalypts rising up Black Hill to the north. The colour saturation is turned up to eleven and the leaves dance and sparkle their farewell to the day.

branches and leaves of an apple tree bathed in golden light against a blue sky