Fallen trees are one thing, part of the natural cycle, stumps are another. All to often, but far from always, they feel like just the termination of noble life for profit and convenience. My stated position certainly clashes with my training and partial career as a cabinetmaker. How often I was caught up short while working with oak, say, remembering this was once a living tree. So much for my high horse. In any case, this is a poignant image of a ghost in the bright sunshine, coddled by upcoming gererations. It's an object of beauty, streamlined and mysterious. I like how you've made a portrait of it. Grays and green go well together, Nevertheless, stumps are trees' own tombstones.
Thank you. |
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