Going down Makati-Mandaluyong bridge around 645PM last night, I caught a glimpse of the magic hour sky. It was that melancholy blue with streaks of magenta peeping through. The lamps on the riverbank were turned on and for a few seconds there, I had a fleeting Florence feeling. Magic hour is my favorite time of day. It always gives me pause depending on the kind of day I've had. It has on occasion driven me to tears and this time, it was very comforting. Yes, there are pesky electric cables, Pasig is not quite Arno, and squatters do live by the river. No, Mandaluyong is not Florence, but magic hour can still be magical... even in Mandaluyong.
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