flowing directs the spread

what arrives spreads the way the current runs.

the flow has been directing the spread; what radiates here radiates along the running. into this field something arrives, and its own spreading takes the current's direction from the first.

dawn drifts downwind. the arrival did not choose the direction, and the direction was true before the arrival came; the field carries the new the way it carries everything.

the balance tips downstream.

a balance reaches its tipping point in a field where flow directs the spread. the change radiates, and its radiating is channeled: the tip is felt along the current's line, farthest and first.

lightning runs the sky's own grain. where the spread went was settled by where the flow was running; the tip supplied the moment, the current supplied the direction.

each shapes the other along the current's line.

each shapes the other in a field whose spread is directed. their influence travels the current: what one does reaches the other by the running line, and the reply comes back along it.

aurora streams on the solar wind. the coupling has a direction the way a conversation has a channel, and the channel is the field's own flow.

an edge forms along the current.

an edge forms where the flow directs the spread, and it forms along the running: the current's line becomes a drawn line. spread on this side, channel on that.

the horizon lies the way the light travels. edge and current agree, and their agreement is the field's grain, visible at last.

the directed spread parts around the pressure.

pressure arrives against a directed spread and meets no fixed opposition. the spread parts, passes on both sides, and gathers again beyond, still carrying the current's direction.

cirrus divides around the high wind and stays cirrus. the direction was never at the surface where the pressure landed; it is in the running, and the running continued.

the spread comes to rest along its line.

the field finds its level where flow has directed the spread. what was carried settles where the carrying ran, the way snow lies in the wind's own drifts. the stillness keeps the direction as shape.

dusk banks its light along the horizon wind. the level field is a record: anyone reading it can see which way everything moved.

what comes back rides the same current.

something comes back to a field whose spread is directed, and the return is directed too: it comes by the current, the way everything here travels.

the tide answers the moon along drawn channels. going and returning use one grain; the field spends nothing on new directions, and the way back was in the field all along.