I love the intermediary periods. The late afternoons and the early mornings (though I too am not up to see those as I wish I could be--though not enough to go to sleep earlier).

I like the transitions as they hold on to some of the best particles from either side. At dusk the sky still grabs for the color of the sun and it only gets the prettiest ones as the first stars peek out from their sleep a million years away. At the end of the afternoon the sun lets off a certain glow that is more gold than yellow, a color of contemplation. And then you watch it fade away into blues and silvers, colors of completion, an indication of rest.

Part of it has to do with the play of shadow and light that seems to capture the most important colors. It's the intermediary times of day when something forces us to consider the sky, consider the world and our relationship with the sun and with the night. It's the intermediary times when we remember the cycle, yes the sun slips softly away, but tomorrow he'll be back with a rekindled flame. If it weren't for night how could we appreciate day? If it weren't for the sun how would we feel about the moon's disappearing act?

To answer your question I love a good saturday afternoon into evening. While the sun is up I'm filled with more energy than at any other time of the week. I just want to run in the grass and play every second until the sun is completely gone. It probably has a lot to do with the weekend being everyone's short vacation. There is a sense on a saturday that there is no responsibility except to relax. And isn't saturday night the most anticipated of the entire week? There is an excitement that builds up the entire day with the sun and when it finally goes to sleep it's as if it has fueled us to go all the way to sunrise.