For me, the log above represented the opportunity for an interesting photo. But, Sven who saw the same log, at the same time, thought of dragging it home for firewood. The log also reminded him of his childhood, when logs would float down Sweden’s Klaralven River to the lumberyard, a memory that invoked a soft summer breeze and the calls of excited children, busy building a raft.A log is a log is a log, right? Wrong. A log can be different things to different people.
One beachcomber sees this log as a bench, to sit and contemplate the sea. Another wonders where the log originated. Did it float across the ocean? Was it local, or driftwood from some distant shore?
A teenager perceives the log as part of a future beach shack, to be constructed out of driftwood and jetsam, high above the tide line. To a child, this log revives memories of having played in the waves on a similar piece of driftwood the summer before.
Two lovers get out a penknife and carve their initials.
A sculptor imagines turning the log into a piece of art.
A carpenter examines the log to see what type of tree it once was.
A scientist wants to cut it open and read its rings.
Take another look. Do you simply want to know where it came from? What does this log conjure up for you?
