Sometimes we leave a place thinking it was ordinary, only to discover years later that it quietly changed the way we see the world.
I found the photograph by accident.
I was looking through old folders on my computer when an image of Snapper Rocks appeared on the screen. It wasn’t one of my better photographs. The light was ordinary, the composition uncomplicated, and if I’d been judging it for a competition, I would probably have passed it by.
Yet I paused.
Marie and I have returned to that stretch of coastline countless times over the years. Sometimes the beach is crowded with surfers and families. Sometimes storms leave driftwood scattered across the sand. Once, whales surfaced close enough to shore that everyone stopped talking and simply watched.
I couldn’t remember exactly what happened on the day I took this photograph.
But I realised I had returned to the image many times.
Not because it captured an extraordinary place.
Because, without my noticing, it marked the beginning of a different way of seeing. Somewhere between the waves, the changing light and the familiar shoreline, I had stopped looking for spectacle and started paying attention.
It made me wonder whether some places quietly change us long before we realise they have.
We Expect Big Moments to Change Us
I had thought that dramatic life-changing experiences were the key to personal transformation. Looking back, I can see why I thought that way.
Starting my first job after finishing school and receiving my first pay packet set me on the path to independence. It was a transformative moment knowing that the money was mine and I had earned it.
A couple of years after leaving school, a couple of my classmates were killed in a road accident. Even though we were not close, I was rocked by the event. In youth, we think we are bulletproof and will live forever. This event was the first to challenge the view I held.
I was looking forward to retiring and had planned how I would occupy my time. But when I retired, my motivation suddenly left me, and I sat around, with nothing interesting me. I didn’t feel like doing photography or anything else. I never expected retirement to start that way. Fortunately, after a couple of months, events outside my control shook me out of that frame of mind.
Today, I can see that many of the deepest changes actually happen quietly.
Almost invisibly.
I don’t see them at the time and only recognise them years later.
Maybe transformation often arrives disguised as an ordinary afternoon.
Places Leave Traces Inside Us
I am finding that environments have an emotional influence on me. When I visit different locations, my feelings seem to adjust to what I am experiencing.
A quiet creek with slow-moving water, shady trees and hardly any people encourages me to experience stillness.
A rocky beach encourages me to be curious. And so I explore the textures, colours, and shapes, getting lost in the moment.
When whales surface from the water, I experience wonder.
Still water, no city noises and a gentle breeze encourage me to reflect. I stop and take in the scene in front of me. There is no hurry to be somewhere else.
There are other places that encourage speed and distraction. When I attend a sports event, the competitive nature of the game quickens my pulse, and when I have a camera with me, there is no time to carefully compose the shot. Catch that piece of action, capture a burst of images and hope I got a good shot. Adrenaline is pumping me along.
I am starting to think that we absorb something from the places where we linger. I don’t think it is a conscious thing.
It happens gradually.
Perhaps the places where we linger quietly become part of us. Seeing the power of the ocean as it crashes onto the waves is something I hold in awe. It’s another experience that fills me with wonder.
Being in places that encourage slowing down, reflecting, and exploring has helped change my life. Gradually, over time, I have found I am doing those things at home.
The places I frequent have become part of me.
Photography Helped Me Notice This
Photography didn’t teach me where to look. It taught me how to look. As the years passed, I began noticing small things I would once have walked straight past: a lone plant growing among rocks, reflections on still water, patterns left by the retreating tide.
When I look back over my old photographs, I find they are revealing something unexpected to me.
I wasn’t simply documenting the places I had visited; I was documenting versions of myself.
In the early photos, I can see I often included more action. It seemed that was what I was looking for most. I would also more often photograph the overview rather than the detail.
More recent photos from the same locations show a lot less action and more documentation of the changes that have occurred. They also reflect a growing appreciation for the place and a greater attention to detail.
And this has been a developing theme; I can see the gradual changes in the images I have produced over the years.
What happened was the camera preserved moments before I understood their significance. This is a good reason to review my old photos every so often, because I start to learn things I missed at the time.
A photograph taken years ago may now represent the beginning of a different way of seeing.
I think photography is becoming less about memory and more about personal transformation.
Looking Back With Different Eyes
I look back over old photos for a variety of reasons. I may be looking for an image to:
- include in a composite.
- submit to a club competition
- include in an article
- reflect on a memory.
Each time I look back over my photos, my eyes have changed. An image I didn’t think much of two years ago has a new meaning today. Sometimes the passage of time changes how I regard an image and what it means to me.
The photos haven’t changed.
I have changed.
My life experiences have continued, and my views have developed and adjusted to my changing circumstances. While searching for photos to include in a composite, I am reminded of photos I have forgotten. They may not suit my composite, but they touch on memories, and I find myself going back to them.
I have grown older.
The photograph has remained the same.
I think meaning is created in the relationship between the two.
Perhaps this is why I rarely delete old photographs now. Some of them are technically ordinary. Some are barely memorable. But every now and then, I discover one that reminds me not of what I saw, but of who I was becoming when I pressed the shutter.
The Places That Continue To Travel With Us
I used to say that I take myself with me wherever I go. And that’s still true.
And when I returned home, I used to think I had left behind the places I visited. They may be memories and photos, and that was all.
Now I know that unconsciously I can carry back parts of the emotional impact of these places. They help my personal growth and my outlook on life.
They influence:
- how I notice beauty
- how I slow down
- what I value
- what feels like home
The transformation becomes part of my identity.
Closing Reflection
I can imagine looking back at my early Snapper Rocks photo in a few more decades’ time and still not remembering every detail of that day.
But I recognise something else.
The place quietly taught me to pay attention.
It encouraged me to slow down.
It shaped the photographer I became.
Perhaps it even shaped the person I became.
We often think we travel to discover new places.
Perhaps, without realising it, the places are quietly discovering us.
Long after we’ve driven away, they continue travelling with us.
Originally published in Full Frame, The Art of Photography