There is no hidden meaning. Surface is what they are. Sometimes they may seem straightforward, and sometimes they may surprise you like children who have taken unexpected paths, drowned in fog, and pulled down the stars at night. Sometimes they hang in the air or disappear without a shadow, like sand or gravel or the startled red fluorescence exploding into spring. But they are always there, erasing their tracks on the verge of disappearing or becoming something else, always changing horses in the middle of the stream.