Olive-brown, very high water on the river this morning, less than a foot below the top of the seawall. Rain at high tide, waves actually breaking against the jutting pier. You never see that; usually they just roll under it, but they had nowhere to go. Not a lot of wind, or it would have been even more exciting. Seagulls swooping around, no place to land with all the pilings covered so most of the gulls were on roof ridges, waiting out the weather. Except for one ambitious guy who spotted a dead fish and settled down on the water beside it, and the half-dozen other ambitious guys who spotted him spot it and flew over to steal it from him. The usual ruckus, but it was too rainy and cold to really put their hearts into it and eventually they all just flew away.