Can a single picture tell a complete story? Are there photographs that are so impressive, so burning, that they can convey an entire book worth of words? And if the picture doesn’t convey the story, or the same story, does that mean it isn’t good?
I’ve been thinking about the tales that my photos convey. What my pictures mean to folks when they see them. These thoughts started floating in my head when I began to receive comments on my pictures. It is amazing to me how one image, without explanation, can mean different things depending upon who is viewing it. Often, what I thought the photos conveyed, were not what people seemed to have received.
I began to wonder if I was somehow failing in my photographic communication skills. I thought that perhaps I was lacking if the same message wasn’t received by everyone. But, I realized, the point of photography, the point of any art really, is to inspire emotion. If, a message is received at all, then the photograph is a success.
With all that being said, I thought that it might be fun to post a picture and have my followers write a story. So, you be the writer. There are two ways you can respond to this. The first way is to write your story for the picture below and post it in the comments section. The second way is to reblog (Press This) this post with your story. Either way, have fun and share with us what story this photo conveys to you. Please feel free to write in any language. I can translate if needed.
Click on the photo for a larger view. To view more photos, visit my galleries.
sethsnap 
I think that main objective of any photo – is to make specific atmosphere to whole story. If you can do right atmospheric photos (or just find proper images on the web) that represents whole mood and tune – than You can be sure You did Your work well, and posts or stories will reach hearts of readers or listeners.
Good point. Thanks!
My first thought(s) when I saw this photo was: That’s a quite a magnificent tree… I wonder who planted it and if, as a young tree, it used to be irrigated with water from that well pump? And if now the tree’s roots extend deep enough to be tapping into the same water source that the pump extracts from?
I hadn’t thought about the age difference between the pump and the tree. That’s an interesting thought.
I used to live in Ohio. Went to college there.
Which college?
A small school (with a long tumultuous history) called Antioch College in Yellow Springs.
Yeah, I know where that is. Yellow Springs is a cool college.
I think a good photo can begin a story and a great photo allows the viewer to finish it.
Great perspective. Thanks.
Ya know, i was thinking of this photo all night. For the first time ever I want to write a fiction story ( I”m more of non fiction memoir type of writer). I don’t know whether to thank you for the inspiration or be grumpy at you for adding to the list of ” things i need write”. I’ll go with thanking you lol. I just keep picturing this fictional character. A young but work labor aged farmer maybe in his 40’s. I can picture his speckled gray hair that is sun dried frayed and his working outfit of a sturdy but heavy wool to keep the morning chill away with permanently stained wrangler jeans and muck boots.
I always enjoy adding work to others’ lists. So, in that respect, I am glad I helped. 😉 Also, thanks for the image of the farmer. I like how you said “young” 40’s. I just turned 39 and I agree with you 100% on that statement.
I like your post very much. I have tried sharing my photography in many ways/venues, but in my own blog (for now) I am trying to remain out of the space allowing a viewer to rest there if they want, take what they want or just visit and leave. Photography is an exciting art – I am loving that the technology of new cameras has opened the field to more eyes and stimulated more visual “thinking.”
When I first looked at your image I thought – Tree out lives man.
Keep thinking and shooting images. 🙂
Thanks Dawn. Interesting thought. The tree outliving man. I can see it.
Nine. Nine is a wonderful age, except when you are nine.
It is warm outside and humid.
Ejected out of grandma’s kitchen and out into the yard to “play”. Riding my bike around the farm and sweating. The big tree in the back yard gives no relief from the warm wet blanket that I breathe through.
You can smell humidity and green of the world sweltering around everything.
Thirsty.
Shall I go inside and beg a glass of water from Gramma? No. I will go to the old water pump by the back field instead.
I drop my bike next to the house and head across the yard for a cold drink of well water. I use both arms and struggle to lift the arm till it gets to the point where the water starts to gush. I press my lips to the rush and take a few big gulps, getting the front of my yellow shirt drenched. I press down against the arm slowly creaking the gaskets in the pipe closed.
I look up at the big tree. So tall. An idea for climbing, if I wasn’t sweating so much. I stare at the gray between the branches and dream for a moment of blue sky and cool breeze.
Wow, thanks for the story. Beautifully written.
Thank you for the offer to use your photo as an inspiration for a quick prose. Good photos invite you to write your own story.
You are welcome. I love reading the stories that have been posted so far. I hope others will comment as well. Also, I think I might start doing this weekly. What do you think?
I think that would be awesome. Sometimes a well defined photo or painting can trigger a thought that landslides into a complete story. I for one would love the opportunity to utilize your art for inspiration.
The time before autumn..i always like to sit under this tree..and the dry pump is completely opposite to the beautiful tree..but then autumn comes and leaves turn red and yellow..turning the tree to a skeleton..matching the pump..once I was also flowing with water and made you turn green..now you my friend, tree..you can have some empathy with me
Great thoughts. From the pump’s perspective.
thank you
This is what this picture reminded me of:
I open my eyes after a seemingly long nap and feel like I am in a dream. Standing right in front of me in a giant tree exactly like that of my favorite movie, My Neighbor Totoro. Am I dreaming?
I run over to the water pump to splash some water on my face. I start pumping the lever up and down. After a while, water starts flowing, slowly at first. I swoop down to catch some water in my hand and splash it on my face. The cold sensation feels so refreshing. More and more, I feel that this isn’t a dream.
Instinctively I run over to the tree to look at its big roots. As I approach, I see something glimmer and as I lean in, I see it. Its a beautiful seed. When I reach to grab it, suddenly I lose balance and fall down, except I’m sliding down, down, down….
When I finally open my eyes, I realize that I’m sitting on a grass field. In the corner, I hear a furry ball snoring in deep slumber. Is that Totoro? As I walk over, I touch its soft tail and it wiggles just a bit in response.
I lean against the furry body and fall asleep in its comfort.
When I wake up, the sun is blazing into my room. I realize it was all a dream. Nonetheless, to me, it was a fulfilling dream full of childhood hopes. I’m ready to meet the new day with lots of energy!
Great story. I can see how the fog in the background seems as though one is in a dream state. Love it. Thanks.
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Photgraphs are methods of communication. They appeal to specific centres of our perceptions, logical, a factual photo, emotional, a scene either pleasing or displeasing. Really good photos appeal to both. Communications exist only in the eye of the receiver, not the transmitter. Your Ohio sunrise I think it is in another blog is such a wonderful image, it speaks to a deeply emotional level, wonderment is engaged, awe is inspired at the beauty of the natural world in me. I do not care if anyone else feels the same as I do and that is all that matters to my emotional centres – which makes me somewhat selfish..:)
Thanks for your words Colin.
Pictures dead or alive ? This is the question. I react now to your little red lonely house in the green. First I thought where is it ? Could it be in Sweden ? No. I saw more and the picture turned from hope and dream to anddrdddddddrdreamdream,to sadness because life was not visible
sorry – something went wrong – I could not write with Mac further lines. I try to ciontinue : …turned from hope and dream to hopeless. Why ? Everything left there and no communication longer, since the dream diasppeared
hmm … only few words can be told. Then goodbye little sad lonely house. I go to Sweden and see the red houses, not alone, or my own.
http://www.heraklitdenmark.dk
Thank you for your words.!
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I love this idea – I have used photos as inspiration pieces on my blog, but only ever my own images.
This image makes me think of the difference between what we as humans can do, and what nature can do. Alternatively it shows nature as protector: it looks like a parent watching over its children here.
🙂
Thanks! 🙂 Good thoughts.
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this photo is awesome. in fact i am walking out from my log cabin in my 1800s dress and nightcap with my pail to boil water for washing. it’s damp and cold. yes, it’s november.
Thank you. 🙂 Glad you like it. ./
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There is a battle between the elements, Wood so Grandeur and splendid, metal, awesome and inspiring, Yet both own supremacy in life. And to capture within a frame complimenting one another is a special moment. Your picture has essence and shows your style well.
Thanks for the kind words. 🙂 Hope you visit again. 🙂
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