The picture is an emanation from what seems the deep past: the year 2006. I made this image at Keeneland Racecourse outside Lexington, Kentucky. Walking toward that track across a park lush with grass and trees, about to enter an institution esteemed among lovers of thoroughbred horses, you sense you have stepped upon consecrated ground, emulating the atmosphere of a national shrine.

A horse race unfolding on a video screen has beguiled our couple. They placed bets on the contest. Clearly the result still hangs in doubt. With twisted fingers our foreground subject applies pressure to her front teeth, enough to corrugate the skin on the palm of her hand. Her partner shows similar feelings in a restrained way. With fingers resembling the talons of a carnivorous bird, the man tugs down from his chin with practiced authority — as if with executive thinking he might influence the outcome down on the track.

Nail-biting is the quintessential cliché for describing nervous suspension in time. Yet the behavior emerges organically here, unconsciously in a realistic moment, not tired or stereotyped at all. Our foreground lady seems to be experiencing pure fun.