“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words shall never hurt me.”
Who can’t remember hearing those words at least once while growing up? Coming home from school, we would tell the story of how someone had said something mean to us or called us a name. Invariably, we would hear those immortal words, spoken with empathy, as advice to just ignore the mean thing said to us or the mean name we were called. It was good advice then, and it’s good advice now.
When I saw this composition a few weeks ago, that little saying immediately popped into my mind. My wife, dog, and I had gotten up early one morning to visit the Arkansas Arboretum at Pinnacle Mountain State Park. We arrived and began walking along the path together. But, as always happens, I got left behind when I stopped to take a picture of something and they kept going.
Continuing on slowly, I came upon this decaying branch. Taking a quick glance, I didn’t see anything particularly exciting about it and decided to move on. After taking only a step or two, I suddenly stopped and turned around to take a closer look. When I inspected the scene more closely, I noticed the rock that was only a few inches away.
One of the things I always like to look for in a subject is contrast, such as contrasts in color or lighting. What struck me in this image was the contrast in the physical properties between the branch and the rock. The branch was weathered, decayed, and fragile, and it looked like it would crumble and fall apart in my hand if I picked it up. The rock, on the other hand, was strong, heavy, and solid. It wasn’t going to go anywhere for a very long time.
It is that contrast, the strength and solidity of the rock versus the weakness and fragility of the branch, that I find so interesting in this photograph.