This morning, low, thin black clouds against thick gray and pearl-colored ones. The river also gray, very dark and calm, flowing north, long soft swells heading lazily to the seawall. The rain for awhile was gentle enough to make perfect tiny splash-back drops about an inch high, with clear rings spreading from them. The reef of piers has turned into an archipelago, all the low ones submerged, just the tallest dotting the water. One or two of these pier-tips were occupied by its gull or tern. Some gulls were flying and swooping, some floating on the swells; probably, these are the birds whose piers are underwater. But in rain like this, the water's surface gets stirred up, and the eating's good. So the birds with no place to sit were having breakfast, while the ones with real estate watched with their heads tucked in their wings.

I don't refuse acrimonious debate so I can sell books. That price would be too high. I just don't enjoy it. Even when I'm sure I'm right. I care about speaking my piece, to a lesser degree about being understood, and not at all about whether anyone's persuaded. Those of you who do enjoy argument are welcome in my joint, as long as you don't get so loaded you piss in the corners or bust up the furniture. If you do, you're cut off.