There’s a certain magic to the hour just after sunrise and the one just before sunset. Photographers call it the “golden hour” for a reason. The light is soft, warm, and dimensional, casting long, dramatic shadows that can transform an ordinary scene into something extraordinary. It’s a fleeting period, a daily spectacle that I’ve become obsessed with capturing.
This week, I ventured out to the old city district, a place I’ve shot a hundred times. But in the golden hour’s embrace, it was entirely new. The crumbling textures of the ancient walls were kissed with a warm glow, and the narrow alleyways became tunnels of light and mystery. Every photograph felt like a secret whispered between the sun and the city. It’s in these moments, with the world bathed in this ethereal light, that I feel most connected to my craft. The challenge is not just to capture the light, but to capture the feeling it evokes—a sense of peace, of fleeting beauty, of a world holding its breath.
