No, this light is neither soft, nor golden. It is harsh. Unrelenting.
It's not this light that is special; it's what this light does to the objects on which it falls.
To me, this just looks like Michigan in August . . .
Positive Reflections, Brow-Furrowing Perceptions, Shoulder-Shrugging Oddities and Glassy-Eyed Reminiscences
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