If I hadn’t already figured out what the term golden hour meant I surely would have figured it out last night. Fred Howard Park was my destination, a place that had been on my mind to go for the sunset for a while now. I had forced myself out the door, I was so tempted to just stay home. And while things looked a bit different to me than I remembered, I was happy I went and happy that I went early enough to enjoy the way that light bathes the scene before you.
That family was feeding the seagulls, hence the birds in the air. And the sun had barely dipped below the horizon when a truck appeared on the beach and we heard loud whistle, a ranger clearing the beach. I’ve never been tossed off a sunset shoot before, or tossed out of anyplace ever, so if that had been a bucket list thing of mine I could check it off. It was the only sour note, an intrusion on a peaceful scene, but I’ll go back again, and soon…
A Snowbird's Life Through the Lens 