Thick dark clouds swirl overhead, moving towards a center like a whirlpool. The clouds are many small cumuli, and a golden light shines behind them so that shifting veins of this light divide the swirling umbra.
When the clouds reach the center, they are channeled downward into a perfectly straight, very narrow column, and they change texture and become something more like rushing air and water.
There is a sense of fruition of process, concretization, and the precipitation of reality from the abstract.
Anamnema 
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