Welcome to The Cerulean Speculation

There was a ripple beneath yesterday's afternoon; the watercolor vapors of clouds sift restless through distinct horizons.

Yesterday's seasonal tidings now echo in fallacious undercurrents, woven amidst the syntactic dialogues of fork-tongued eels.

• Can tales from the deep be captured, considered whole?
• The absence of latitude in kelpie havens speaks through luminescent scales. Some believe so.
• Aquatic reveries falter where the sunken poets linger in stone.

Perhaps even Poseidon's scepter might chase elusive daydreams through forgotten canals, guided by the phosphorescent whispers of unlikely camaraderie.