Upgrading Spree I

The ocean breathed, her surface rising and falling with rhythmic ease. The waves became her pulse that day, the echo of the souls she kept safe in her cradle of brine. Unlike the ocean he just left, the ocean in front of Michael was calm. The ocean breeze wrapped around him as the warmest of soft towels. The wind had become the orchestral conductor of the sea, sending waves into their crescendos' all through the ballad that was the night. All about us was the perfume of the salty water and the fine spray that came as boldly as any viola flurry. It was as if the life of one's had entered the water and the energy was so great that this great pulse came upward to form a steady rhythm.  The sea is infinite blue in infinite weather patterns, yet in all this, she is the prettiest color Michael ever saw.