Perfect Strangers

This was shot at a crossing in Brussels. Late afternoon, golden hour starting to lean into haze, and the kind of sidelight that makes the most mundane street scenes feel sculptural. I wasn’t looking for a story—I was just following the light. What I got instead was this: two people, frozen in proximity, framed by urban geometry and indifferent routine.

They didn’t know each other. That much was clear. No shared glances, no body language suggesting connection. Just two people waiting for the light to change, locked in that brief, suspended moment before movement resumes. But visually, they worked in tandem—her neon green jacket, his mustard ochre coat, both cutting sharply through the neutral palette of glass, asphalt, and bare winter trees.

Compositionally, I anchored them just off-centre to preserve the depth of the crosswalk and stretch of city beyond. The architecture on the left pulls the eye down one vanishing line, while the background traffic and tree trunks stack vertically into a second. It’s not a symmetric frame, but it balances. The colours help—it’s a rare instance where bright tones don’t disrupt but unify.

Technically, this is a soft image—not in focus, but in mood. Shot wide open with a fast prime lens, I let the background blur fall off gradually, giving just enough detail to read the environment without letting it dominate. The exposure is slightly warm to preserve the late afternoon tones, though the highlights on the bald head and green nylon nearly pushed into overexposure. I left them intact—they give the image some bite.

What makes this frame stick for me is how little effort it required. The story isn’t complex. It’s just a pairing of form, tone, and timing. Two people, accidentally matched in colour and contrast, stepping into and out of each other’s lives in under ten seconds.