Slow time surprises us. You glance at an object you see every day and suddenly it has changed, revealing a previously unseen aspect that appears almost by magic. Were we not paying attention? Did this occur all of a sudden? Slow time creeps around us, touching everything with the inevitable finger of entropy.
Winter is leaving, in spite of what the thermometer says every day. The days are getting longer, the fields are revealed without their white blanket, the birds are singing in the hedges. It is taking its time, though, gradually withdrawing a bit at a time and by doing so leaving behind signs of its passing.
As a stalactite patiently grows down from the cavern ceiling, this twig extension slowly grew drop by drop, displaying the remains of the melting ice and snow from higher in the branches. A little warmer for a bit, then a drop in temperature, moving water from one state to another while it flows inevitably to the ground. Cycle after cycle, expanding the reach of the ice twig as the tree foresees the actual growth to replace winter’s surrogate.