In the editor
The caret glides. Arrow keys, clicks and typing all move it along a curve rather than teleporting it, and it blinks by fading instead of switching off. Settings → Caret tunes it. (More.) A strike that sweeps. Check a task and the box pulses, then a line draws itself across the words over about half a second while they fade to the muted colour. The strike is a gradient, accent to muted, not a flat line. Uncheck and the words brighten back with a quieter pulse. Finished tasks sink, gently. A beat after you check a task it fades out, drops below the last unfinished item, and fades back in there; the strike fades with it. Uncheck it and it rises back to its old place. Focus mode breathes. As the caret crosses into a new paragraph the light crossfades from the old one to the new one. Turning focus on settles the dimming over the page rather than dropping it; scrolling lifts it gradually; the next click or keystroke brings it back where the caret landed. The dimmed text keeps its Markdown colours, darker and less saturated. Dates arrive with a pulse. Type@today and a space: the word becomes the date and its capsule pulses once in the accent. The capsule itself is lit from the top with a hairline edge.
Links made by pasting pulse too, in the link colour, so you can see the words were wrapped rather than replaced.
The chrome steps back while you type. On the first keystroke the footer and the sidebar toggle fade to almost nothing; they return when the pointer moves.
The word count ticks. Every number in the app that changes rolls from the old value to the new one rather than flashing: the word count as you type, the footer total, the Documents and Shelf headers, folder counts, tag counts.
Inline code sits in a rounded box, quotes get room to breathe, and the syntax marks are there but dimmed — the page reads as prose with the Markdown still in it.
An empty document says Start writing at the caret, in the syntax colour, and gets out of the way at the first character.

