a visual love letter to the melancholic but ephemeral moment we call blue hour.
light has faded and objects become hard to distinguish from the background or each other. they seem more like silhouettes in the steely light with shadows so soft and gloomy. our color-vision gives way to shades of tungsten as there is no longer enough light for our eyes to differ between detailed color schemes. the city turns cold and the blue scenery adds a dark, dramatic quality to its character.
a fragile few minutes, that I deeply romanticize, as the light gently turns from warm orange to the cooler, blue hues of blue hour — before the night sets in and takes over.
