The clouds look like they’re debating whether to stay or leave.

The water moved with a quiet determination, its surface catching the last remnants of sunlight as if reluctant to let go. I stood on the edge of the sand where footprints had been left behind—some deep and deliberate, others faint and hurried. The rocks nearby offered a sturdy contrast to the fluidity of the scene, their edges softened by time and tide. The clouds above seemed to carry their own weight of stories, shifting between light and shadow as though undecided about which to favor. A faint ripple broke the stillness of the water further out; it was so subtle that it felt like nature whispering to itself. The air grew cooler as I lingered there, watching as the day unraveled its final threads. Even the sand beneath my feet seemed to sigh in resignation as the sun dipped lower into its inevitable rest.