Golden Hour on my balcony
To me, there is nowhere more beautiful than 5pm to 6pm on the balcony of my first apartment. With a honey green tea, and the sound of music that breathes life into me.
As the traffic goes by, the autumn breeze hugs me whilst i soak in the beauty that surrounds me.
A corner of the universe just for me, to sit and drink tea, my cat by my side. She says it’s bath time, basking in her own golden light.
There is nowhere safer. Nowhere that i have found more fulfilling, than the privilege it is to be sat in a country where i can worry about bills and how hydrated my skin is or how damaged my hair might be from the years of running a straightener through it, while half way around the globe a war wages.
And while i could complain about the fuel prices or the lack of urgency to do something about all that is wrong in the world, i find myself here aware and unaware all at the same time, of the beauty that surrounds me and the absolute tragedy that we humans have found ourselves in.
Golden Hour on my balcony, how lucky I am to exist in it, and to not exist in it at all.