Foam is the sea’s brief breath. It appears, vanishes, rises like a white sigh on the surface of the water. Fragile, it lasts only a moment, the subtle glimmer of what cannot be held. It is the ocean’s ephemeral language. Born of nothing, wind, salt, water, and chaos, it blossoms, flickers, disappears. It embodies the beauty of instability, of the fleeting, of the almost invisible. In its swift dance, it reminds us that nothing lasts, but everything can be sensed, for a moment.