Basin clays tangle their bands where tusk and wind crossed before settling could fix each melt's measure leaving the wheel's lean only half told in stone.
“Silt pairs in the old basin bed thicken or thin with the sky lean's command, recording how much ice yielded each cycle to the changing angle.”
“The old tangle was not an unfinished sky. Settled basin bands shifted duskward the width of forty seams once their melts had closed. Tusk scratches rode keen in the smear. Of that width the count holds. Thaw may spill them as one mud and leave wind's crossing unreturned.”
“I once blamed tusk and wind for muddled basin bands, as if each melt died unmeasured and a sky-lean stayed half-written. The bands were finished before the fold. Pressure knotted them after water left. Of that order I am sure. Coming salt has not said if it will unpick the knot.”
“Forty-one odd seams hold hoof. Forty even seams hold only wind-grit. I once braided them into one unfinished sky-turn. Weight parted the braid. Those winters never touched. The sky's lean was never clay. Coming water has not said if it will smear the parting.”