Refilm the README, and drop the screenshot the GIF repeats

[vmillet-dev]

The card head and the search both changed shape — #71, #35 and #114 — so both
pictures showed an interface that no longer exists.

The GIF

Same 1920×1080, same corpus of twenty-four notes, same tour.

	before	now
frames	20	29
size	1.37 MB	2.01 MB
length	19.8 s	18.8 s

Palette error, measured by re-expanding a frame exactly as the GIF shows it:
mean channel error 0.19 (rgb565, 256 colours, sampled across every frame).

⚠️ Nothing in the application animates — the only transition in the whole
stylesheet is on the settings toggle — so there were no in-between frames to
catch and no tweening to add. Smoothness comes from two things instead:

• One frame per typed character, at 130 ms, for both the search and the
  palette. That is the sequence the eye reads as typing.
• The states between scenes filmed rather than cut. Clearing the search,
  dropping the tag, going back to "All" were instants the old GIF jumped over;
  they are frames now, at 450–600 ms.

The field values fill in bursts rather than per character — eleven frames for
one value is not motion, it is a file size.

The search scene searches path, which matches four notes: three deep in
their bodies and one by its title. So the count is on screen, three cards quote
the line that put them in the results (https://{{host}}/api/v1/{{path}}, from pathlib import Path, path: |) and the fourth shows the head of its body —
which is right, its title being what matched.

The screenshot is gone

It showed the same board the GIF opens on and holds for a second and a half, one
scroll above it. Two pictures of one board is one too many, and it was 211 kB of
README nobody needed twice.

What that costs, stated plainly: a reader who blocks animated images now sees
nothing there. The alt text carries the description either way, and a GIF paints
its first frame as soon as it is decoded, so there is no blank wait on a slow
connection — but it is a real trade and easy to undo.

🤖 Generated with Claude Code