Water that won’t lie down

On the wall water has opinions about which way is down. A clear ring of it stands upright over a tiled bathroom floor; a tall sheet of it rises across an indoor swimming pool, and a pane of it stands against a cracked red clay bank; the water in an upright glass tilts sharply to one side; a tiled pool is bent into a saddle while its water lies flat; a forest creek runs in two bright layers with a dark band of air between. Some of it goes uphill: a foaming column climbs a grassy bank, drops rise from a station platform under an iron canopy, a thick arch of white water rises out of one pit in a black rock plain and drops into another, a downpour runs in reverse over red cracked earth, tea pours back in a looping stream into a tilted cup, and two garden hoses arch over a puddle and send water back into the air. And some of it is waiting: a crown of splash hangs against a dry brick wall; a droplet hangs above a puddle with its splash already risen; crowns hang in the air along a fence above a tennis court; a round curtain of rain hangs motionless under a watering can; rain falls through the surface of a still lake and goes on among the stones; ribbons of water braid over and under each other in a stream; and a droplet walks across a leaf on fine legs.

The Slopwright irons the sea flat in Pressing Matters, so flat is what water is meant to be, and kept weather is what the wall does with some of the rest. The codex proposes that this is the water he hasn’t got to yet. This entry is proposed by the codex, from pictures on the wall that are all machine-made, and is not canon until approved.