The day’s fractal surfaces are books, bodies, matrices of snow and leaf, water in its shape-shift from ground, breath, river, tide, and leaf-exhalations to sky; its drift and drizzle from cloud to earth. The day’s fractal surface unfolds, reveals itself: shattering, dappling, mirror-ball mosaic of light racing towards us, a wave of radiance. The day’s coastline is rough, studded and crenellated with memory: the sediment of time, ballast of noticing. Moment-made-flesh: millimetres of hair, claw, bark, and shell; the air, the dirt, the leaf-litter, this little boat of muscle and skin.