The oil chokes away lives, the water becomes dark. The mangroves are coated with tar. The marshes look black after soaking up the oil. The seabed is further despoiled. Even the mud skipper has no where to go.
Crabs start sinking as the tide rolls in.
The occasional fish floats by and stares at you with that baleful look of death. Oh rain, black rain. Stand still wind, do not blow. Abort the self lofting thoughts. You see when oil burns, everything just does not burn.