Or, at least, wave patterns. A jagged smile? A slice of alien watermelon? A seismic graph? Or just one of the many traces left by any activity, anywhere? Nothing goes unnoticed, even if it goes unremarked.
It all matters, or so we hope.
I miss my mother. She would have celebrated her 91st birthday today. Which of course makes one wonder secretly, or not so secretly, whether…well, you know.