From time to time, we find unexpected faces peering at us from clouds, from puddles and leaf patterns, from rocks and lichen.
(I have blogged before about some of these: see
the Jesus rock,
an alien spaceship, and
quite a few more.)
A couple of weeks ago, I almost stepped on this figure on the beach. I see a pilgrim; hooded, bearded, in a long traveler's robe, leaning on a sturdy walking stick.

A sign? A talisman for the long road ahead? A visitation? A wandering monk? A Saint of some stripe? A wizard strayed from the LOTR? A figure for a Nativity scene? Good old Joseph himself? Or a Buddhist
arhat?
Should I put him on a high shelf and light candles to him, bring him fruit and flowers, or just rub his hood for luck?
Ah, me! For those actions to bring any benefit, one must believe. And I don't. I think it's a piece of driftwood, molded by waves and rocks, turned into a pattern by my meddling brain.
Pareidolia, they call it. I'm out of luck.
So I'm happy to have met him, and he can sit on my table for a while and later go to join the oddities on my shelves. But I won't light candles for him.
Here's another face I found. This one, I couldn't bring home. It was a water stain on the ceiling tiles of a coffee shop washroom. Luckily, my camera rides comfortably in my purse.

A girls face in pink and brown. Lots of hair floating in the breeze. Just the thing for a ladies' washroom!