Photographers call it the golden hour. It is not necessarily an hour: it is that brief interval when the sun is low on the horizon and its light, passing through a greater portion of the atmosphere, becomes warmer and softer, with hues tending toward yellow, orange, and red. It is the light that photographers and film directors wait hours for, knowing that they will then have only a few minutes to use it.
But perhaps in Cuba the golden hour is something more. It is the moment when you always come back from the sea but no one really wants to leave. The moment of the last swim, of aperitifs still in swimsuits, of boats returning, of walks along the shore or the seafront promenade (we call it Malecón), and of photographs that, for once, hardly need filters.
John Ruskin, who spent a good part of his life observing and describing skies, clouds, and light, noted in 1876 a sunset that kept changing, passing from one beauty to another.
Perhaps that is why we keep photographing sunsets, even though we already have hundreds in our phone gallery
Because no two are really the same. And because the sunset in the Caribbean brings with it a small illusion: while the sun slowly descends behind a mountain, a city, or a sea line, for a few minutes we convince ourselves that there is still plenty of time.
Humberto. Havana City Tours. Arts, Society, History. WhatsApp+5352646921
Humberto. Tours en la Habana. Historia, Arte, Sociedad. WhatsApp+5352646921




