Chasing Golden Hour: Simple Nature Rituals for Summer's End
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Dear Travel Journal,
I always feel strange as summer draws to a close. Another chapter is ending, but summer always feels like the most enjoyable, longest, yet actually the shortest, or fastest, time of the year. Just like the golden hour.
Yet all seasons have the same duration, and the sun has the same movement. It has always seemed strange to me that some moments never seem to end while others just fly by.
As the season changes, so does VAGMAG. We'll be in the Nature Quarter starting in September. It's just as exciting as the golden hour moments.
In the last VAGMAG's Sunday postcard, I mentioned how my life in recent years has been more of a spiral than a straight asphalt road or a winding nature trail.
By subscribing to our Substack, you can receive postcards we send from wherever we are in the world every Sunday at 11:00 CET.
What's more, before these spirals formed, my life was more like a still body of water, and that tiny question, "Who am I," which I didn't realize would affect my life so much, fell into that still water at an unexpected moment. The circles that made my life look like a spiral began to form then, and even though I used to get angry with myself for feeling like I was constantly repeating the same things, now I choose to be happy just to have ever-widening circles.
What's more, as these circles widen, growing parallel to the previous one, I return to places I thought I had passed and left behind. For example, right now, I'm in the place where I grew up.
While being outside during the day is madness with the summer heat, long walks in the evening have suddenly become my new habit. It's not something I used to do much when I was growing up here. These walks have also started to include rethinking conversations I had that morning or zoning out and blaming myself for a very old dialogue, but somehow, whenever I hit the golden hour, these thought clouds always scattered, and I just got caught up in the magic of the moment.
As I started to lift my head from the ground just as I was turning the corner of the path I was walking on, that deep shade of red that began to blind me gradually gave way to a golden yellow, and I, too, left behind my self-blame from the past. I would tell myself, "What's done is done," and remind myself of my great-grandmother's words: "The day is today, the minute is this minute, the moment is now."
The golden hour is not just a time when the sun is six degrees below the horizon. For me, it's a daily moment of awareness that teaches me to read the space, texture, and time more carefully. This magical moment is peerless, and reminds us that time doesn't turn back.
Before the golden hour reflects a whole day, and after it, a unique sunset moment before a dark night, but I think there's more here than just the yellowish color the sky takes before the sun sets. It's a kind of magic that can inspire songs, movies and provide a backdrop for photos.
About the Golden Hour
If we were to define this moment that we all know but perhaps cannot fully describe, the Golden hour is a time frame of about an hour (it can sometimes be shorter or longer) immediately after sunrise and immediately before sunset. These hours are also called "magic hour."
The difference, or in a way the similarity, between golden hour and sunrise and sunset is that it occurs in both. It represents both a beginning, new hopes, and rebirth, as well as goodbyes, acceptance, and stillness.
Imagine yourself on a rollercoaster. The time between 0° and 6° as you ascend before the first drop and the time between 6° and 0° as you descend before you reach the bottom is your golden, or magic, hour.
Of course, the duration is not the same all over the world. The golden hour lasts much longer in places like Iceland or Norway, while it is experienced as short as a "golden minute" in equatorial regions. We could call this another valid reason to travel to Iceland or Norway.
Undoubtedly, for travelers, the golden hour is a short gift where we can see the city or nature we are in in "its most romantic state."
Walking as A Way of Seeing
Especially now that my circles are widening, I have noticed, while back home and taking long walks during the golden hour, that surfaces change at this time of day. Stones are shinier, leaves are translucent, and water turns into a mirror. Sounds soften. Insects, distant traffic, and footsteps become more noticeable.
Another reason why this time of day and the surroundings become more noticeable is that I prefer to walk without a phone. I replace notification sounds with more natural ones. Instead of artificial bird melodies, I listen to real bird sounds.
For me, golden hour is a silent luxury, a time for creating new memories that are simple yet profound. This is the hour when the world becomes a natural studio, a masterpiece of light and shadow. I've always been fascinated by how filmmakers, painters, and artists have used this very light to define a mood or an entire aesthetic. It's no coincidence that many of our favorite movie scenes—from directors like Terrence Malick to Barry Jenkins—are bathed in this very glow. They understood that this brief moment in time can make a simple scene feel timeless and deeply emotional.
Inspired by this power, I've started seeing the golden hour not just as a time to walk, but as an opportunity for simple, mindful rituals. These are not about grand gestures but about embracing the subtle magic that's all around us. For our first Nature Quarter, I'd like to share a few of these small luxuries—ways to slow down and create your own golden hour memories before summer is gone.
Golden Hour: Simple Nature Rituals
I can suggest before summer ends
When: Arrive ~45 minutes before sunset.
Where: Any edge-of-nature spot—park meadow, riverside, hilltop, beach, community garden, or even a tree-lined sidewalk that catches west light.
Bring: Comfortable shoes, water, a light layer, and a small VAGY notebook. Phone on airplane mode.
and Remember: Safety first: Especially if you're in an unfamiliar place, stick to well-traveled paths, tell someone where you're going, and don't forget a headlamp just in case.
Thinking Walk
Just a slice of a 24-hour cake that you have set aside for yourself. The golden hour usually doesn't even last that long, and to not lose its magic, you shouldn't prolong it either. Give yourself the opportunity to leave everything behind with the majesty of the sun after thinking about the conversations you had during the day, specifically for this time of day, in a nearby park or on a nature trail. Additionally, cycling is as effective as walking or going for a walk with your dog.
Notice how the light changes the colors of the leaves or how birds prepare to return to their nests. These small signs of nature help you end the day with perspective.
All you need is to make a promise to yourself for the next day and keep your promise by putting on your sneakers and going outside when the time comes.
Sidewalk Chats
Chatting for a bit with a friend you haven't seen in a while or with the employee of that local shop you always thought about entering as you pass it on your way home. Just a short chat on your feet, just like the shortness of the golden hour. Maybe a cold drink can accompany this conversation.
The difference this time is that you consciously notice how the golden light softens the atmosphere—on the walls, on the trees, on people’s faces. These small encounters, illuminated by nature’s best filter, can turn into unforgettable memories and make you feel safer and more at home in your surroundings.
Skygazing: Slowing Down and Watching with Feeling
Golden hour offers a unique opportunity to admire not only the landscape but also the sky itself. This experience becomes even more meaningful when you're in a natural setting, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Simply sit or lie down, put your phone away, and watch the sky gradually change color.
Noticing how the clouds slowly take on shades of pink, orange, and purple connects you more deeply to the moment. Perhaps you'll watch a flock of birds return home, or the leaves dance in the wind.
The Simplest Feast with the Simplest Possible Menu
Even just a matcha or coffee is enough for a picnic. Or like ours, a glass of wine and coffee with a book. I'm sure we'll see some great suggestions for picnics in the Gastronomy Quarter. Maybe two camping chairs to comfortably watch the magic hour from the best location. You don’t need a big spread—what matters is being outside while the world is covered in warm tones.
If you’re by the sea, listen to the waves match the rhythm of the light; if you’re in a park, notice how the grass glows almost golden. These little details of nature turn even the simplest picnic into something memorable.
Whether it's a thinking walk, a sidewalk chat, a quiet moment of skygazing, or a simple picnic, these rituals are all about finding those small, golden moments in your everyday life.
They remind us that the most beautiful things often happen when we slow down and pay attention. As we transition from the vibrant energy of summer to the calm introspection of autumn, the golden hour offers us a perfect bridge—a final, warm embrace before we move on.
How about catching the last golden hours of August and sending me a sentence about the time you spent in nature?
with care, Idalia
