Salt white
The Rann does a thing to scale. With nothing on the ground to measure against, a person a hundred metres away could be a child or a post. I kept walking towards a shape that turned out to be a plastic bottle.
Then Mandvi the next morning, where everything is the opposite: boats half-built on the sand, men on scaffolding made of branches, noise.
The edge of the Rann at the end of the day, and the shore at Mandvi the morning after. Colour, mostly warm, mostly empty.
