A single enormous cocoon, spun in visible layers, a spun cocoon hanging between trunks, pale, pushes up out of still dark water, the form meeting its own reflection on a hard line in a near-black conifer forest, the frame four-fifths dark, hanging inverted from above, the surface dripping in long smooth runnels that all point down, its structure read in the lit edge alone. Soft diffused overcast, shadowless, every surface lit the same, with one clearly lit band or edge holding the top of the tonal range — and a lit band down one flank, which is what keeps the frame's separation. The floor dense and unreadable, the form's lit face clean. One person alone in dark clothes, seen from behind on a ledge, tiny — about one fiftieth of the frame's height, too small to read a face. Hushed and a little funereal.