---

The observer arrived late.

This was inconvenient because the observation had already begun.

Nothing had happened yet.

At least, nothing that the observer could identify.

There was only a field.

A narrow path.

A tree leaning slightly toward the water.

A stone lying half beneath the grass.

The observer took out a notebook.

They wrote:

I have arrived.

Then they waited.

After some time, they noticed that the tree had been moving.

Not much.

Only enough for the leaves to change their arrangement.

The water had been moving too.

The grass.

The clouds.

Even the shadow of the stone.

The observer looked at the notebook.

They had been waiting for something to happen.

But something had been happening continuously.

They crossed out the first sentence.

They wrote:

I have arrived late.

Then they stopped.

That sentence seemed less accurate.

The observer had not arrived late.

The observation had simply begun before they knew they were observing it.

They closed the notebook.

For a while, they watched.

---

Later, when they opened it again, they found a sentence they did not remember writing:

Perhaps observation does not begin when attention arrives.

The observer stared at it.

Then looked toward the water.

The sentence did not become more true.

It did not become less true.

It simply remained there.

Which, for the moment, seemed sufficient.

---