The Golden Hour

It was the night before Lady Kritter’s birthday and when asked what she wanted to do on her special day, her reply was not what I expected. I was pleasantly surprised by her response, “Be out in nature.” It was too late to go on any overnight trips, so the choices ranged from going to Cape Canaveral National Seashore on the coast to the inland waters of the St. John’s River basin on kayak. Or take a day hike in one of the many state and national parks in the area. The diversity of outdoor activities was one of the reasons I moved to this area of Florida. Lady Kritter had so many options she decided to wait till morning for the go ahead plan.

Both Lady Kritter and I love a painted sunset whether it is reflected on water or suspended above the horizon of the land. In recent days the high altitude, late afternoon cloud formations had created magnificent sunsets of blue, pink and orange colors. Lady Kritter decided to take a chance and have her birthday present of another possible glorious sunset of colors painted on the canvas of blue sky. The only local hotspot for wildlife and possible light-show at dusk that we could think of was unanimous, Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge.

The Golden Hour, or as some photographers call it, the magic hour, occurs just after sunrise and just before sunset. The sun is near the horizon causing sunlight to travel through more of the atmosphere. This reduces direct sunlight and creates a warm, soft, diffused light from the sun that appears more reddish-orange. The warm glow adds a pleasing feel to the scene, and long shadows help to pick out details, adding texture and depth to the image. 

Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge is nestled in western Volusia Country, 7 miles north of Deland and west of DeLeon Springs. According to the US Fish & Wildlife Services Lake Woodruff is…

 a habitat for migrating and wintering birds. The refuge contains 21,574 acres of freshwater marshes, 5,800 acres of Cypress and mixed hardwood swamps, 2,400 acres of uplands, and more than 1,000 acres of lakes, streams, and canals. The bilogical diversity of the wetlands provides nesting, overwintering and stopover habitat during migration for neotropical songbirds, migratory waterfowl, shorebirds, wading birds and raptors (215 bird species have been counted).

No two sunsets are ever the same and now that we were in the winter season, Lady Kritter and I would hopefully get that once in a lifetime sunset with a bonus display of abundant wildlife.

When Lady Kritter and I arrived at the refuge the cloud cover was heavier than expected. So many times I would arrive at a location, wait for a break in the clouds, only to be disappointed by thick clouds covering blue sky, spoiling the anticipated display of oranges, pinks, blues and who knows what color would appear with the setting sun.

Lady Kritter and I get out of the vehicle, walked less than 100 feet and are stopped in our tracks. Less than 50 yards in front of us, nestled on the elevated dirt walkway between two dugout canals was an otter eating a fish. We stood silently as otter finished his evening meal and bounded back into the water towards our left. Slowly moving forward we could see the otter swimming in the water and cleaning his face. For about 20 minutes we watched the slick looking rascal play. When the playful antics of the otter waned I realized I failed to take the camera out. I succeeded in only getting one of two photographs with otter swimming away surrounded by cattails. “We could turn around and go home”, Lady Kritter said, “I just got my present”. However, in just under an hour the sun would be setting and hopefully the light show would begin.

Lady Kritter and I took our time exploring the water world on either side of the dike road. The low lying stratocumulus clouds departed and sunlight broke across the prairie. As the sun slowly lowered towards the horizon, the prairie began to turn into a golden color, The Golden Hour. At one point, as I walked ahead of Lady Kritter, movement along the dike’s edge caught my attention in the shrubs that separtated the wet prairie from the dike. Tiny, black masked face birds the size of warblers, called Common Yellowthroat, would suddenly dart out of the woody limbs, fly just above the shrub tops. and just as suddenly as the birds appeared, fly a short distance ahead of me and disappear back into the scrubs. What was truly amazing about this physical phenomenon was how the birds would fly up into the setting sun-ball causing their bodies to be shillouted against the bright golden light. Their wings were transformed into a dream-like white opaque color against the sun. What came to my mind first was this surreal feeling of being surrounded by flying little Tinkerbell fairies. I looked back towards Lady Kritter, pointed to the birds and told her, “fairies” and that we were truly in The Magic Hour.

And then, there was the sunset. Bright orange at first against a baby blue sky, framed in purple clouds. The colors became softer oranges, pinks and blues that had somehow been brush stroked across the sky by a master artist. I turned towards the east and saw Lady Kritter looking in the same direction at the many shades of pinks streaking across the gray-blue sky. “Happy Birthday”, I told her.

Each step back towards the car brought a different hue in the sky. It took a long time for the night to envelope the light-show. Instead of ending this story in words, I”ll let the pictures finish this writing.