Even the tree seems to be leaning in for a closer look at the sunset.

The tree stood there like a quiet witness to time’s passing—its branches stretched out as if yearning for something beyond the horizon. The rocks beneath my feet were warm still, holding onto the day’s last heat. I crouched near the shoreline where tiny ripples lapped gently against stone. The air was filled with a kind of silence that wasn’t empty but alive. It was as if the landscape itself breathed in sync with the fading light. Somewhere far off, a gull drifted lazily against the amber sky. I couldn’t help but wonder if it knew how fortunate it was to see this every day.