The sun looks like it's sneaking off for a nap.

The horizon seemed to stretch endlessly as the sun dipped lower, casting its golden glow over the hills. There was something almost theatrical about how the light played with the scattered clouds, as if nature itself had orchestrated this moment for an audience of one. The air was still, but not silent—there was a faint rustling from somewhere in the distance, perhaps a bird or a breeze brushing through unseen leaves. I stood there, feeling both small and infinite at once. The hills, now dark against the fiery sky, seemed to hold secrets older than time itself.