Dusky Beauty

There’s something about the late afternoon that soothes my soul.  The harsh sunlight gently mellows down into a warm glow, softening the sharp edges of everythingness.  Buildings and trees look friendlier. Even the pavement takes on a welcoming aura, which only a few moments ago, glinted blinding sunshine.  People look more human, as they catch rides to bring them home.  Their foreheads un-crease as they cast the day’s cares into the fading light.  Some catch after-work snacks on the streets.  They munch on fishballs and kikiam, contemplating the warm, soft bed that awaits them.

Back in college, when I took up cinematography, I learned that 4-5 pm is called the “magic hour.”  It’s the best time to take pictures or to film because it has the best light.  Noontime’s too-strong light creates shadows and radiance contrasts.  But the “magic hour” flatters your subjects, its light caressing their features, bringing out the best in them. 

And now, it brings out the best in me too.  It coaxes out childhood fancies and an awareness of blessings.  After a tiring day of weaving in and out of the metro traffic, of yet another day wondering what my life is really made of, the dusk gently makes her entrance after the daylight, just before the moonbeam, and embraces my weary soul.  If something so in-between can also be so complete and comforting, then I guess my in-between days can also make sense.