Back again to the macrocosm of the skies and the weather—the weather of facial expressions and body language. What am I there? 

If the scientist collects, the artist gravitates. 
I gravitate toward the blur, the light of twilight, what flies by quickly, or pauses momentarily—like a still frame when looking through a train window.
Writing  punctuates in this way. Fly by postcards.

States of suspension, taking in the background, scattered seeds and particles coalescing and dispersing. 
Floaters appear when looking into the sky, connecting lines of tree branches, maps, handwriting, legs, chromosomes.