Unseen · flux ↓ down the gradient
Fickian — the slow spread of everything, dye diffusing into still water
Drop dye into still water and it spreads — not pushed, not stirred, only wandering. Each molecule takes a blind random walk down the concentration gradient, and the sharp edge you released softens, inevitably, into a smooth bell.
Click the still water · release a drop · watch two plumes overlap and sum
Nothing pushes it. It wanders there.
There is no current in the tank, no hand to guide the colour outward. Each dye molecule is jostled at random by the water around it, stepping this way and that with no memory and no destination. Yet from that blindness a direction emerges: where the dye is crowded, more of it steps out than steps back in.
That statistical drift is diffusion. Adolf Fick wrote it down in 1855 as a debt paid to the gradient — matter flows from where there is much to where there is little, at a rate set only by how steeply the crowd thins. The steep front you release cannot last: the peak sinks, the skirt fills, and the profile relaxes toward the one shape diffusion allows.
Watch them bloom outward and space themselves evenly: the mark of a spreading Gaussian, whose width grows as the square root of time.
Release a second drop and the fields simply add. Diffusion is linear — two plumes never collide, they sum.
What the plume already knows