Golden
It's fleeting, it's pure, it's golden
Quick Update: I changed my newsletter name, handle, and instagram to “Words with Justine” to better encapsulate my perspective on words (and books) as a way of living & being. I’m holding onto Ever Flowing Ever Being because I have many ideas for what I could do with it in the future. I’m still dancing through life as it moves and sometimes sitting with it in all it is. Thanks for all the encouragement so far!
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GOLDEN. Mostly when I think of this color, I am reminded of a feeling, a fleeting feeling of nostalgia. Sometimes from moments I can experience again and again, and other times, from moments that I only had the chance to experience once. Either way, how lucky I am to remember how they made me feel.
Golden hour has always been my favorite time of day. This fall season reminded me of what feels golden, but this light exists in other seasons too. Daylight is golden.
Golden is the light that reflects on the strands of our hair, the words on a book, the reflections of a window, the rippling waters in front of us. It’s the golden-brown cookies fresh out of the oven, and the metallic gold frame with a painting of Monet’s garden in the center. Golden is the candle flame that burns in the evening hours as the world quiets down. It’s the golden outline on the architecture of a building.
It’s the fruit that tastes golden — perfectly ripe, juicy and sweet (pears, peaches, nectarines, you know the ones). It’s the reflection of white wine sitting gently in the glass waiting to be savored. It’s the piece of gold jewelry that adds the extra touch and makes the outfit feel complete.
It’s sunlight and the way the golden arcs of light shift depending on the season — coming through the windows, onto the wall, the couch, the table to create a pattern, a shape, a reflection. It’s the golden leaves that are not quite brown, but not quite yellow with a touch of green.
Sometimes the moments that catch us by surprise are golden.
Occasionally, it’s the selfie where the light hits just right. I remember taking this picture over two years ago — it was a summer night in Manhattan, I was in a yellow cab headed toward the West Side Highway to meet friends for an evening picnic. My sister had just moved to the city too and we were giggling via text about how happy we were to now get to experience this place together.
The city was glowing; the light was golden, but so was the moment, and I can feel it every time I see this picture.
As Taylor says, “I once believed love would be black and white, but it’s golden.” Love gets to be golden too — sometimes fleeting, other times pure, often real. We hold on to someone or something hoping it will last just a little while longer.
Maybe that’s why these golden moments stay with us; they are fleeting, shimmering, and yet impossible to hold in their fullness.
I guess there are some things that just feel golden. They bring warmth, feel shiny and bright, but often come and go — never lasting as long as we want them to. That’s what keeps us wanting more; it’s the chase, the allure, the search for more that is golden, feels golden, touches us and is golden. The golden pinnacle of something, the golden ache of something too. And I’d like to believe what’s golden will always find us again.
Book Recommendation:
My favorite book of the year is Wild Dark Shore by Charlotte McConaghy. A woman washes up on the shore of a remote island off Antarctica where a family preserves the world’s largest seed bank alongside researchers. As sea levels rise, perspectives shift, and learning about wildlife, plants, and seeds through the eyes of one of the children is precious. It’s messy, warm and fleeting — naturally fitting the theme of what’s golden.
“I think of this life, of my life, of the things I built and planted. I have been so lucky to know such richness.”
And of course, the cover is flooded with light too.







Such a beautiful piece! I feel all shimmery and golden just reading through it, but especially with this sentence: “Golden is the light that reflects on the strands of our hair, the words on a book, the reflections of a window, the rippling waters in front of us.” <3