/the yellow mist

/the yellow mist

The molten-gold sheets of the summer light fall on the seaside huts and seem to drown in the ocean floor. The straining soft light of the waning sun creates a dome of soft glow above the horizon. Is this what the light at the doors of heaven would be?

The town is covered in a yellow mist, which strokes the rooftops as if they are pets and fills up the streets like a bath. Its warm embrace is so soft that one feels like skinny dipping in the sun. In the sun! Is this what the light at the doors of hell would be? Preparing you for the final purge?

Waxmelt-yellow light caresses everything it touches—the flora, the fauna, the humans, the structures they built. It has an esoteric quality that vociferously calls one to wear nothing but the sun. Is this what the epitome of the dance of photons looks like?

Shot under the mystical and thought-provoking golden light in Zaanse Schans.

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