'Even the sun needs a tree to lean on sometimes.'

The tree stood like a sentinel, its branches sprawling outward as though trying to embrace the fading light. The sun filtered through its leaves, casting playful shadows on the grass below. I leaned against the fence nearby, feeling the warmth of the day still lingering in the air. The fields stretched endlessly, their golden hues catching the last rays of sunlight. A soft breeze stirred the dry grass, carrying with it the faint scent of eucalyptus. In that moment, everything felt suspended—time, sound, even thought—leaving only the quiet companionship of nature.