The time in the unit the piece is measured in
Broadcast timecode is the right form for somebody cutting an hour of footage. Printed on a six-second animation, the hours and the minutes are always nought.
Four characters out of eleven, twice over
The transport read 00:00:02:07 / 00:00:06:00 and the ruler read 0:01 0:02 0:03. The question somebody is actually asking — how far in am I, out of how long — had to be read past two empty groups to get to.
So: 1.59s / 6.00s, and 0s 1s 2s along the ruler while a piece is under a minute. Past a minute the colon earns its place again, because 75s is worse than 1:15, and frame numbers come back on the ruler the moment the zoom puts them there.
Two decimals is enough to name a frame at sixty a second: frames are seventeen thousandths of a second apart and a hundredth resolves that. What seconds do not give you is the frame's number, so the full form is on hover — where which frame exactly is the question being asked, and not before.
Undo did nothing after clicking almost anything
A focused button swallowed every keyboard shortcut except copy, paste and the arrow keys. The rule was written for the space bar, which presses the button somebody has their finger on, and then applied to the lot.
Clicking something is exactly what you have just done when you want it back. A button keeps what it presses itself with, plus backspace and delete, because focus sits on a row the moment a layer is picked. Everything else belongs to the editor.
A pinch did nothing
Two fingers sideways already moved along the piece, because the scroller does that on its own and taking it over would have meant writing momentum by hand and getting it worse.
Pinching is different — a touchpad sends it as a wheel with a modifier held, and the browser answers it by zooming the whole page unless something else claims it. It steps the timeline's zoom through the same seven stops the slider offers now. Gathered before it is spent: a pinch is fifty events a second and the zoom is a stored preference.
And the line being worked on
Opening a layer gives five or six property lines that look alike, and the one the easing editor was about was marked only by a diamond a few pixels wider than the rest. It takes an accent down its left edge now, on the name and on the track alike, because they are one row.
A lone keyframe said which property it belonged to and not when. Where it sits on the track answers that to the eye and to nothing reading the page aloud — it says its own time now, the way the merged diamond beside it had been doing all along.