The channel sky broken into long, rolling waves of white-capping peaks collapse into troughs of ever more facets of sky and sun; fold inward as liquid dimples of blue reflecting scud clouds glare light over erosion-resistant rocks streaming sub-surfaces of the shoreline through tumbling moult, a fluid, green shade of countless effervescences erupting as spray back onto the land, slipping out to collect the next row of incoming tumble, spattered gray rocks darkening with drying splash in the autumn rays of this endless cessation while the call of gulls and the murmurs of humans over coffee discussing cultural economics in the seats of the Juniper Cafe accompany the distant ferry as it stretches time towards Wolfe Island and back while I sip my own cup, staining this page with the ink of my own momentum observed.
