When I first saw this scene, it didn’t feel like much — just a stack of old tires under a bridge. But the longer I stood there, the more I noticed. The way the tires repeated in rhythm, the rough textures of the wall behind them, the graffiti layered over years of people passing through. It felt like the kind of place you’d normally walk past without a second thought, but I wanted to pause and really look.
I chose to edit it in black and white because color softened the moment. Without it, everything became about contrast and shape: the dark circles of the tires, the pale wall, the shadow of the overpass. For me, black and white makes the scene more direct, more honest.
What I love most about this photo is how much human presence is in it, even though there are no people. The tires are traces of all the journeys they’ve been part of. The graffiti is someone else’s mark, left as furious expression. Even the Michelin mascot off to the side felt important to keep in — this strange, cheerful reminder of advertising and consumer culture sitting next to piles of discarded rubber. That little detail made me smile.
This photo, for me, is about cycles — motion and stillness, use and waste, presence and absence. It’s about the things we leave behind and how they tell stories when we’re not there to tell them. I think that’s what draws me to photography: the chance to notice what’s usually overlooked and to share that moment of seeing with someone else.
