The ocean-sky mirror is clear today. The ruffled underbelly of strato-cumulus winging in from the west with cooler wind in their sales, grey and rippled. The ocean surface overbelly below, from shoreline green through to a slowly-deepened blue, an equally-ruppled and riffled rushing and falling of little mounds and troughs, never still, changing though your eyes my settle on place. The rounded churning is not enough for a wave to break except where they fall to earth and rise to air at shoreline arrivals. Same as the clouds are not enough to break into rain, or the wind strong enough to fold over any temporary summits into foam when they rise. The ocean sky mirror is clear today, mild in its middling, the shoreline organism living, breathing, lawful.