Golden light


Sunrise this morning, the light is golden, just magical.  Sunset is the same.  I can just about touch the light, it’s something else.


Looking west from the Story Hill this morning, fog along the Mary River and the ephemeral golden light of Sunrise.  If I could bottle that light… how rich would I be.  Rich to me, could be poor to you, life is an enigma.





Top of the Story Hill first thing today. I can’t quite catch the light. After feeding the wild birds and a cup of black coffee I sat down and wrote up my log.

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