The French term captures the ambiance of this time of day more pleasingly than the English word "dusk". The water keeps the light of the departed sun like jewels held in trust for the view of fortunate hikers.
I sometimes remember at times like this, walking at twilight in Stanley Park in Vancouver in 1957-58 shortly after coming to Canada from a small English Village. One of the songs frequently heard from passing top-down convertibles was by the Platters. The time was magic and I still love this tune.