Today I left my office just after 6 o'clock, and the City was bathed in perfect light. The air was crisp and uncomfortably chilly, highlighting the sharpness with which the light delineated things like buildings, cars, and people.
This is the sort of late afternoon light you see only in winter or early spring, closer to white than gold. It's the light that precedes sunset and is on the cusp of the magic hour. It's soft and diffuse, yet blindingly brilliant.
My commute home is westbound, and there was something that revived my spirit, something about the cool air on my skin as I had to close my eyes against the silvery brightness of the waning afternoon.
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