We think of the visual presentation of objects as being relatively constant in time. The tree or even the cloud we are looking at stays more or less still, actually enduring and maintaining itself as time passes - time being experienced by our cycling back to ourselves, our innate recurrent motion. On closer scrutiny the seen object moves within itself. It takes a fractional moment to become a thing, and when it has so become then at each fresh moment of its appearance it asserts itself against its memory, arising within a horizon that ever more belongs to it. The thing, or even just the patch of colour, seethes like a cloud when seen in fast motion. We see this if we look closely at the successive frames of a motion picture image of the thing, although here the cause of the motion in stillness may be differently explained. There is a moment, or fractional moment, of disruption, but succeeded immediately by an involutionary motion which recaptures it, as if it turns on itself, becoming more and more itself while a stream of eidolons evaporates out of it - so that its being only refers to the ideal of resting serenely within itself. The thing evokes, or speaks of, the ideal of a resting within itself, of the nature of thinghood being an infinite interior convergence. Language, which is innately motion, only shares in this nature to the degree that the formal element, form being timeless, predominates, as in some poetry.