Fathom

A camera was lowered onto a reef and left there. Fathom is what it sees.

It does not pan, it does not follow anything, and nothing in it is aimed at you. Fish cross the frame because they were going somewhere. Sometimes the frame is empty. That is the point: a tank where something is always happening is a screensaver, and a screensaver is not worth a key.

ONE VIEW, ACROSS EVERY KEY — Drop a Window key on as many keys as you like, anywhere on the deck. They measure themselves into one block and each becomes a window onto the same water, so the bezels behave like the mullions of a real window: a fish crossing one goes behind it and comes out the other side. One key works too, if that is the space you have.

A REEF THAT IS YOURS — The seabed is grown from a number rather than drawn: sand banks, coral heads and the bare stretches between them, sea fans, brain coral, tube sponges, staghorn, anemones and kelp. It is generated once and then left alone, so it is the same place tomorrow — and if you do not like it, grow another.

AND WHATEVER SWIMS PAST — Reef fish and shoals of sardines, angelfish, a seahorse hanging in the coral, an octopus riding the sand, moray eels, rays, turtles, jellyfish, squid and now and then a shark going by in the haze. Each carries itself the way it actually does: a shark cruises where a sardine flicks, a ray beats its wings, an eel is one travelling wave from nose to tail.

THREE BODIES OF WATER — Not a brightness setting. The reef is sunlit and crowded, with light shafts wavering down through it. The twilight is blue and sparse, colour mostly gone, the animals bigger and further apart. The abyss is black, and everything in it is a silhouette except the things that make their own light — an anglerfish's lure, the bell of a jelly. Each has its own cast.

DEPTH, NOT WALLPAPER — Three planes: far animals are smaller, slower, bluer and blurred into the haze; near ones pass across the lens out of focus. Marine snow drifts down through all of it, and the water darkens as it falls away from the surface. It reads as a place with distance in it rather than as fish on a background.

QUIET, OR NOT — Turn the traffic down and the frame is often bare, which is what the sea is actually like and the reason a fish arriving is worth looking up for. Turn it up and there is always something crossing.

NOTHING TO OPERATE — It keeps no score, sets no goals and asks for nothing. The only thing a press does is switch the camera lamp on for six seconds, and the colour comes back.

NOTHING LEAVES YOUR MACHINE — No account, no sign-in, no network requests, no analytics. Everything you see is generated on your own computer, which is also why it works on a train.

Works on any Stream Deck with keys, on macOS and Windows. Requires the Stream Deck app 7.1 or newer. Two by three is a good size; one key is fine; the whole deck is better.

One view

Drop a Window key on as many keys as you like. They measure themselves into one block, and each is a window onto the same water — a fish crossing a bezel goes behind it and comes out the other side.

One key works too, if that is the space you have.

A reef of your own

The seabed is grown from a number: sand banks, coral heads and the bare sand between them, with sea fans, brain coral, tube sponges, staghorn, anemones and kelp.

Generated once and then left alone, so it is the same place tomorrow. Grow a new one whenever you like.

And whatever swims past

Reef fish, sardine shoals, angelfish, seahorses, octopus, moray eels, rays, turtles, jellyfish, squid and the occasional shark.

Each carries itself the way it does: a shark cruises where a sardine flicks, an eel is one travelling wave, an octopus rides the sand rather than hanging above it.

Three bodies of water

Reef: sunlit and crowded, with light shafts coming down through it.

Twilight: blue and sparse, colour mostly gone, the animals further apart.

Abyss: black, everything a silhouette except what makes its own light.

Quiet by default

Turn the traffic down and the frame is often empty, which is what the sea is like. A press switches the camera lamp on for six seconds; that is all a press does.

No account, no network, no analytics. It all happens on your machine.