Blue silence (Five minutes freewrite)

The first light of day paints the sky a bright shade of orange, prompting the tiny crabs on the beach to scuttle back to the safety of the sea, where they will spend the day buried in the sand. It’s going to be a splendid day - with just a couple of innocuous white clouds decorating the blue expanse of the summer sky. The sea is almost perfectly still with almost imperceptible waves barely making a ripple on the blue waters.
Perfect silence. The beach is so quiet you could hear the beetles rustling through the fallen leaves in forest on the hill overlooking the sea. The light of day makes little difference in the dense forest, so they go about their business unperturbed, doing whatever it is that beetles do. They’re small brown creatures that nest among the tree roots. I wish I could tell you their name, but they have none as they didn’t exist before.

By midday the sun bathes the shore in brightness, leaving the sand burning hot. Were there any sunbathers out on the beach they’d be sauntering around, crying out loud and cursing all the way to the sea, vowing not to come out until the sun sets. As it is, the beach is deserted - no soles will get burned and no gleaming young bodies will be soothed by the cool transparent water. Maybe it is for the better - as no perfect beach outings will be ruined by the evening storm, which no weatherman or seasoned fisherman could predict with such a clear sky. No mothers running around to gather their little ones, no towels and bags picked up in a hurry, no flip-flops getting lost in the sand, no plastic toys forgotten in the castles flattened in an instant by the sudden downpour.
As for the tiny crabs, who also have not been named, they don’t mind the storms. If anything, they enjoy the little puddles the rain leaves behind.
Tomorrow, the sunrise will dry the sand again, making it burning hot once more. It’s been like this for eons, although neither crabs nor beetles know of eons or passing time, for that matter. There is nothing like history in this little critters’ world, no legends of the giants that once ruled the world, giants that could have squashed whole tribes of bugs under their feet without noticing. Even that instinct that bugs of old used to have to scurry away in the face of imminent danger has long been forgotten, written out of their survival strategies, for are no more feet roaming the earth. Have never existed, for all crabs and beetles know.
All that is left is a silent blue planet lazying in the sun. If the sun is up and there’s no one to feel it’s warmth, is it still hot?

Story written for @mariannewest's freewrite challenge. Today's prompt was: burning! Check out her blog and join our freewrite community.

Thanks for reading!

Image is mine.