I wonder sometimes how things get the way they do. Why they happen or for that matter, are the way they are. Case in point, a rock placed perfectly on a pillar. Did some prehistoric giant place it there. Did the ground underneath just errode over time. The short answer is, I don't know. Probably, no one truly knows with absolute certainty.
I think that moves me on to my point in some regard, or the further rambling of this philosophical blog post I have somehow stumbled into. Most times, things are just what they are. There is no doubting that there is a rock there, and more importantly who really cares how it got there. It's beautiful in it's own improbability, it is not supposed to exist but it does.
And here we are with this rock, so what? The rock like the picture is a metaphor. In photography we question the reality of an image so much now, I am probably worse than anyone for it, but the thing is if what we have is great, then who really cares how it got there?
p.s. That rock exists - not photoshopped. The colours on the other hand had some help with levels.