There lies a still branch that has been weathered over many years.
Well, it’s more than just a branch. It is a good part of a tree.
It is weathered and white, battered by the salt in the air and the wind that moves it with various temperaments.
It sits on the sand, watching the waves roll in and out throughout each day. Sometimes it is touched by the water. Sometimes the water submerges part of it in its attempts at reshaping the profile of the beach, trying to move the sand around as much as possible.
The weathered tree remains sitting there, stationary, despite slowly splitting from the wetting and trying, gradually looking more and more as though it has been bleached as its color seeps out and goes elsewhere to places that the tree does not know.
Sometimes there are visitors as youth explore the tree, taker photos with it, pretend to be pirates and sailors, jumping around an on the tree. It holds still for, whilst it is weathered and appearing brittle, it still remains as sturdy as it was when it was more vertical than it happens to now be, still remaining safe to clamber about.
Sometimes animals will make it some sort of temporary home, or just explore its body with some sort of curiosity that we normally associate in people.
They will feel around on its surface, sensing different textures that are not uniform in size.
It has been sitting there for far longer than most people have thought. They do not know how long it has been sitting on the sand. They aren’t sure as to where it came from, for its shape does not resemble any of the other vegetation surrounding the area.
They do know that once it was not there, then it was.
Perhaps some people brought it there some time. What would their reasons be? It is difficult to discern, for if it was brought there by people, it would have had to come far.
Perhaps there is no reason. Perhaps someone put it there because they could, rather than any given reason that would make some sort of sense.
Perhaps it was there before and no one noticed. Surely one would not expect people to pay attention to the background when whatever is in front of them would be considered as being the most important.
The tree has watched much success and tragedy happen around it, seen sadness and joy, seen families and individuals, appreciators and photographers, as well as an assorted gathering of many others that one may not consider to name.
It has seen the profile of the beach shift multiple times and the tide rise and fall more than most people would ever think that they have.
It has felt the winds caresses its body with salt and the cold rain.
The tree has been there a long time. It is weathered and appears brittle, but it remains as strong as it was in life.
The time it took to write five-hundred words: 08:24:81
I think that I was going for something a little more relaxed or mundane.
Written at work