Dusk is a time of day often neglected by photographers. The poor light tends to cause folk of our ilk to shy away in favour of brighter times, especially considering dusk is shortly after the “golden hour” with it’s beautiful warming rays. However, dusk can be a lovely time to shoot.
The low light of dusk creates images reminiscent of yesteryear, with it’s last filtered rays of sunshine… It is exceptionally moody, creating romance and intrigue. Especially during the late Autumn or early Winter when rosy cheeks and noses only add to the feeling of crispness. Here are a few photos from a recent shoot to inspire you to get out there and create during this mostly ignored time of day:
My thanks to the St. Onge family for braving the chilly air in search of these shots. It was a pleasure working with you!
We drove 1/2 hour outside of Saskatoon to lay in the prairie grasses beside a lake, cuddled up close to protect against the night chill as we listened to the ducks and other wild life calling to one another, watching the meteors streak across the sky. The girl alternatively whispering in awe and shrieking in excitement while the cold slowly worked it’s way into her bones.
Every so often we could hear the crunch of something walking or landing nearby, but in the almost complete darkness knew it would be useless to try and identify what it was. Nothing attempted to approach, so I’m sure whatever it was had been benign… or at the least, more curious than hungry. We’d call back to the animals who called out to one another and us. And every so often our giggles and hoots would cause curiouser sounds to come back to us on the night air.
It was close to one a.m. when the kid passed gas, giggling when her Dad suggested it was probably a duck who had made the noise. Then we all fell silent again, just in time for him to let one rip too: “Yep, it was a duck.” And I’ll admit it, in the stillness of the dark and wild night, I let one go too: “Lot’s of ducks out tonight.” We all cracked up when a duck, with perfect comedic timing, seemed to quack in reply.
Time passed both too quickly and too slowly. It’s amazing how quickly the night air chills you, even in August when the days are still hot. In spite of laying so close to one another on that soft bed of grass that our arms and legs intertwined, in spite of the heat I could feel being generated between our bodies lying there, we chilled all too quickly… making time feel slow. And memories, dear, precious memories being formed, the kind that will last a lifetime, making time feel all too fast.
“How many more meteors do you want to see?”
“Okay, we’ll wait for two more.”
“Oh! There’s one!”
“I didn’t see it, that one doesn’t count.”
“Over there? Did you see that one?”
“I didn’t. It doesn’t count either.”
And so our last two quickly became four or five… but who was counting anyway. 😉
Late last night, so late that it was actually morning, I woke up thirsty. Needing a drink I quietly crept towards the kitchen, hoping not to wake my sleeping family. Once in the kitchen I discovered I wasn’t the only one up. Tiki was laying on top of the fridge, giving me a look that only a cat can give. One of disdain at the unbelievable stupidity of the whole human race. 😉 So what do I do? I grab my camera.