The Log caught my attention as I meandered along the side roads in Wisconsin on a lazy Spring morning with my coffee cup in hand. It lay on the side of the road in pieces waiting to be hacked up and hauled away.
The size of it told me it had lived a long time, perhaps a hundred years or more but it was impossible to tell because the chainsaw used to cut it down had left deep marks in the core of it. I sat in front of it wondering what it had witnessed in all those years and what it would miss. I took the shot to in some small way preserve The Log.
Perhaps you will find some measure of peace in looking deep into the core of The Log.