The Patterns We Can't Help Seeing

One of the reasons I enjoy walking with a camera is that it forces me to slow down. The slower I walk, the more odd little connections begin to appear. Most of them disappear again just as quickly.

This photograph only exists because I noticed the hair.

The young man in the foreground, the woman further back and even the neatly trimmed tree between them all seemed to share the same shape. I don't imagine either of them noticed it. They were simply walking down the street, getting on with their day. My brain, on the other hand, decided they belonged together.

It's funny how often we do that.

We're constantly looking for patterns. Sometimes they help us. They let us recognise faces, read expressions and make sense of the world without having to think too hard. Other times they persuade us that things are connected simply because they look similar.

Photography encourages that way of thinking. We place strangers inside the same frame and immediately start inventing relationships between them. They become families, couples, friends or rivals, despite the fact they may never have exchanged a single word. The camera doesn't lie, but it does leave plenty of room for our imagination.

Perhaps that's why I like photographs like this. They're less about what happened and more about what our brains do with what happened. The people are real. The moment is real. The story is mostly ours.

I suspect that's why different people are drawn to different photographs. We aren't only looking at the picture. We're looking for ourselves in it. The things we notice first usually say as much about us as they do about the person who pressed the shutter.

I've looked at this image dozens of times now.

I still smile at the hair.