The clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants, br the great indolent planes br Of autumn pelicans nine or a dozen strung shorelong, br But chiefly the gulls, the cloud-caligraphers of windy spirals br before a storm, br Cruise north and south over the sea-rocks and over br That bluish enormous opal; very lately these alone, these and the br clouds br And westering lights of heaven, crossed it; but then br A hull with standing canvas crept about Point Lobos . . . now br all day long the steamers br Smudge the opal's rim; often a seaplane troubles br The sea-wind with its throbbing heart.