One is as solid as solid gets; one is almost translucent.
One operates on geological time, withstanding eons of erosion; one operates at the short end of floral time, breaking apart with the barest breeze.
One can land a chunk on your head, to significant ill effect; one can land a petal on your hand, almost unbeknownst.
Sedona’s red rocks and pink roses would seem to have nothing in common. Nothing but this: Both are fabulous. And so is the camera in my new phone.