One golden hour in the day

One of my most favourite things in the world just happens. It's not one of those things which can be planned, and, very often, happens when there really isn't time for it to happen.It's a magical moment when everyone is doing their own thing and then everyone comes together somehow, a conversation starts and suddenly, no one wants to have to go make supper or do homework or anything else; it's like there's a golden hour where outside time stands still.This golden hour happened today.Chloe came home form her internship, Anastasiia came back from three hours of ballet, Robert and I put down our work for the day, and I opened two inks I had ordered a few days ago to give them a try.Chloe started to tell us of her day, and we listened and chatted back and forth, and I painted a small chickadee with my new inks. (supper happened an hour late but no one cared)Chickadees don't normally have green eyes, only in golden hours. :Dart: page from Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet, black and white Daler Rowney inks, green Mont Blanc ink, (used by my father for his fountain pens), ochre watercolour pencil.