Intense warm sunlight illuminates the geographies of the trunks’ cross-sections transforming this seemingly unremarkable pile of logs into something of radiance and beauty. Where lichen, fraying bark and signs of decay are pushed towards abstraction and imperfection is the language of beauty. The eye dances around the subject taking in the intriguing light and shadows, pondering the age of the trees, then comes to rest, pulled into the obscurity at the heart of the log stack.