Golden Hour on a Mountain Ridge As the day exhales its final breath, the sun spills molten gold along the jagged ridges of the highlands. Rocks shimmer in hues of amber and copper, catching the light like forgotten treasure. Long shadows stretch across the peaks, dancing slowly over the quartz-laced slopes. The air hums with stillness, and the sky softens into a canvas of light and hush. In this sacred hour, time itself seems to pause—caught between the warmth of day and the hush of night.