Golden Hour Photography Challenge - Week 11 | "Capture, Click, Compete!" Golden Sunset

The shadows of the trees suddenly lengthen, and in the forest comes that farewell eve hour, when the sun tends to set. An invisible woodpecker knocks on an invisible door. Or maybe this is the night knocking on the door of the day. Hidden in the branches of the pine, a squirrel breaks flakes from a cone and munches sweetly. The spruces are creaking, shaken by the wind - brothers clinging to each other, gnashing their teeth in eternal enmity. Does the air vibrate? No! Midges. Of the smallest ones that curl up on the clouds and roll through the air with a thin, thin, elusive hiss that makes the silence even quieter. Where are they rolling? Who set them in motion? And how does the orb manage to float as a whole, without a single fly stopping to think which way to take, without hesitating when to where to turn. The orb flies, as if driven by the hissing sound, with the help of the electronic computing machine embedded in each of these microscopic flies. The cloud flew away, and the hissing continued. Was this restless cloud love? Or defensive? Or offensive? Or was it an expedition, feeling the air, in search of its Colchis? … Or was it just a constellation flying through the vast expanses of space; a maddened molecule freed from the chains of earthly gravity to prove the inexhaustible power of spiritualized matter? … The cloud flew away, and the chirping remained floating in the air like a resounding riddle, like a melodic question mark.