Chasing the Right Light: Why Golden Hour is Best
There’s a reason photographers talk so much about light. We wait for it, we chase it, and sometimes, if you’re like me, even yell at it to cooperate. During golden hour (the window just after sunrise or before sunset), the light is almost always at its best, bringing strong contrast, dynamic shades of yellow and orange, and the most prominent separation of subject and background.
Recently, I went out to photograph a lone tree not far from home that had been catching my eye for weeks. It’s one of those spots I’ve driven past a dozen times, and finally I decided to pull over for one evening when the conditions of both fall color and ample sunlight offered the scene I was hoping for. I wanted to take the opportunity to experience how quickly light changes during the short, magical window of golden hour, so I set up my tripod and this time, turned on my intervalometer to take a photo every 30 seconds as the sun dropped behind the foothills.
The result was a series that tells the story of three elements: light, color, and time. In just over 30 minutes of shooting, I witnessed the soft golden glow off the tree vanish, the contrast flattened, and that sense of warmth disappeared. One moment it was perfect; the next, the light was gone.
Golden hour happens twice a day: once just after sunrise and again just before sunset. The reason it’s so sought after is almost purely physics. When the sun sits low on the horizon, its light has to travel through more of the Earth’s atmosphere, and along the way, shorter blue wavelengths scatter, leaving behind longer red and orange wavelengths. That’s what gives the world that warm, golden tone that photographers - myself included - can’t get enough of.
The lower angle of the sun also means shadows stretch farther and softer, wrapping around shapes instead of cutting across them. It’s flattering for portraits, dramatic for landscapes, and forgiving for just about any subject that may be a struggle during harsh midday light. This is the time of day when light has direction: one of the key ingredients that make a photo feel alive.
The biggest takeaway from my shoot was how fast everything changed. Between each 30 second frame, the light’s color intensity dropped noticeably. The warmth shifted to a cooler tone, and the tree that once glowed with color became flat and subdued. This was expected, although maybe not as quick as I had thought. I was reminded of the fragility of timing with these types of shoots.
This is where planning and anticipation come in. If you arrive right when golden hour begins, you’re already late. The best light can last only a few minutes, especially in mountainous terrain where the sun disappears behind peaks sooner than expected. I like to arrive at least 90 minutes before sunset, giving myself time to scout compositions, watch how the light interacts with the scene, and fine-tune my settings. The more familiar you become with how light moves across your scene, the easier it becomes to predict the perfect moment.
Ultimately, in this case, the sweet spot lasted only about ten minutes for me. The light skimmed across the field, hit the side of the tree just right, and illuminated the grass with a sort of golden glow that balanced out with the faded background of the foothills. This is the type of gap that I seek constantly, when the rhythm of golden hour is always short, fleeting, and yet completely worth chasing.
Just after golden hour fades, blue hour begins. This is that cool, tranquil transition where the sun is below the horizon, but the sky still holds residual light. Everything takes on a deeper, bluer cast, and contrast can soften even more. With blue hour, things are more of a gamble. With the lack of contrast, especially for landscapes, this timeframe is tricky. Depending on the scene, you may walk away with nothing notable. In other circumstances, blue hour shines best (ironic, I know), offering the most intense and representative light that matches the scene. Think cool, almost melancholic views that the Pacific Northwest is king at. The blue tones of, well, blue hour can make any PNW image thrive. I digress, though. Back to my tree here in Colorado.
In the sequence I shot, you can see that transition unfold naturally here. The same tree that glowed orange just minutes before suddenly surrounded itself with blue shadows and muted tones. It’s a visual reminder that you can wave farewell to the contrast of golden hour, and instead welcome a more prominent mood for your viewer to interpret.
Now I’ll admit, I highly prefer golden hour. You may have caught that from what I’ve discussed so far, but it’s no discredit to blue hour. I find that the light after sunrise and before sunset yields the most reward, whereas blue hour often is often a gamble. By the time that period rolls around, I’m usually impatient and pack up. For the few times the gamble has paid off, though, it’s been worth it. Just keep that in mind when you’re out shooting. Score the keepers with the sun up, and go for the potential cherry on top after it sets, or before it rises.
Going beyond my recent shoot of this tree, these are my top five tips for preparing to shoot during golden hour and blue light:
1. Scout early.
Visit your location well before sunset or sunrise. Walk around, study the direction of light, and visualize how your scene will evolve. The earlier you understand your composition, the less you’ll scramble when the light starts shifting. Trust me, it happens quickly.
2. Use the right tools.
Apps like PhotoPills or simply your phone’s weather app are invaluable for planning. They’ll tell you exactly when and where the sun will rise or set, and in PhotoPills’ case, even how it will interact with your landscape. These quick checks are some of the biggest lifesavers.
3. Choose your gear wisely.
When it comes to gear, never ignore the importance of a tripod. I never leave home one of my tripods, whether it’s the Epoch for stable landscapes, XC-M for hikes and portability, and Key Grip for stills and video.
The tripod exists for the sake of slowing my shutter, being mindful about my composition, and making sure that the nuances of slight setting changes are all taken care of. Anything to reduce friction when out in the field makes for a better experience.
A filter is another one of my must-haves. A circular polarizer filter can deepen skies and reduce reflections, while a graduated ND filter helps balance exposure between bright skies and darker foregrounds. I never, and I mean never, ignore the chance at putting my HGX CPL Filter on for golden hour. The boost in saturation and contrast is simply unrivaled.
4. Work quickly but stay calm.
Golden hour moves fast, but rushing can lead to mistakes (I speak from experience). Set your base exposure early, then make small adjustments as the light fades. Often, it’s better to slightly underexpose to preserve highlights, as you can recover shadows in post later on, but blown highlights are gone for good. A simple rule of thumb to keep in mind: it’s much easier to brighten a photo than it is to darken one.
5. Keep shooting through (and after) the transition.
Don’t stop immediately after the sun sets. The gamble of what happens after sunset can often score you jackpots, you just have to be willing to be patient for it. Hint: high clouds often find a purple hue that’s a treat to shoot every time.
Golden hour is fleeting, but that’s what makes it exciting. Every minute the light changes, you’re offered a slightly different interpretation of the same scene. The more you train yourself to see those transitions, the more intentional your photography becomes. When you plan ahead, equip yourself with the right gear, and really watch the light, you’ll start to feel the new rhythms of the scenes around you. Whether you’re photographing mountains, city streets, or a single tree in an open field, the right light can turn an ordinary moment into something unforgettable.
Charlie Kruschek
Landscape photography is Charlie's true passion, chasing everything from storms to sunrises. Standing humbled before nature's raw power and in awe of the world's subtleties, Charlie's goal is to preserve heart-skipping moments of natural light, focusing on an emphasis of time. Charlie attempts to share his imagery as a method of inspiring others to appreciate life's beauty through a different optic and the fragility of each second




