Orange on the Beach

A single orange sits on pale sand, its color holding the entire shoreline still around it. The air feels so still.

There’s such a stillness to it all. The orange just rests there, low and small, and the wet sand opens out from it, leading toward the aqua sea and pale sky beyond. That one spot of warm, burnt orange sits against all the cool blues and quiet sand. You can feel the weight of the paint on the fruit and the grainy beach, while the water and air just breathe, laid in so much smoother. The light comes in low from the side, stretching a long shadow across the sand and catching glints on the damp surface. The air carries the hush of an empty beach. Time slows at the edge of the tide.