In 1957, Russian psychophysicist A. L. Yarbus recorded eye movements of subjects as they explored various images, such as a woods or female faces (see the illustrations to the left and those shown previously), by showing the stopping places of a subject's gaze as dots joined by lines indicating the eyes' trajectory during the jumps. A glance at these amazing pictures gives us a world of information about our vision-- even about the objects and details that interest us in our environment. So the first counterintuitive fact is that in visual exploration our eyes jump around from one point of interest to another: we cannot explore a stationary scene by swinging our eyes past it in continuous movements. The visual system seems intent instead on keeping the image of a scene anchored on our retinas, on preventing it from sliding around. If the whole scene moves by, as occurs when we look out a train window, we follow it by fixating on an object and maintaining fixation by moving our eyes until the object gets out of range, whereupon we make a saccade to a new object. This whole sequence--following with smooth pursuit, say, to the right, then making a saccade to the left--is called nystagmus. You can observe the sequence-- perhaps next time you are in a moving train or streetcar--by looking at your neighbor's eyes as he or she looks out a window at the passing scene--taking care not to have your attentions misunderstood! The process of making visual saccades to items of interest, in order to get their images on the fovea, is carried out largely by the superior colliculus, as Peter Schiller at MIT showed in an impressive series of papers in the 1970s. The second set of facts about how we see is even more counterintuitive. When we look at a stationary scene by fixating on some point of interest, our eyes lock onto that point, as just described, but the locking is not absolute. Despite any efforts we may make, the eyes do not hold perfectly still but make constant tiny movements called microsaccades; these occur several times per second and are more or less random in direction and about 1 to 2 minutes of arc in amplitude. In 1952 Lorrin Riggs and Floyd Ratliff, at Brown University, and R. W. Ditchburn and B. L. Ginsborg, at Reading University, simultaneously and independently found that if an image is optically artificially stabilized on the retina, eliminating any movement relative to the retina, vision fades away after about a second and the scene becomes quite blank! (The simplest way of stabilizing is to attach a tiny spotlight to a contact lens; as the eye moves, the spot moves too, and quickly fades.) Artificially moving the image on the retina, even by a tiny amount, causes the spot to reappear at once. Evidently, microsaccades are necessary for us to continue to see stationary objects. It is as if the visual system, after going to the trouble to make movement a powerful stimulus--wiring up cells so as to be insensitive to stationary objects--had then to invent microsaccades to make stationary objects visible. We can guess that cortical complex cells, with their very high sensitivity to movement, are involved in this process. Directional selectivity is probably not involved, because microsaccadic movements are apparently random in direction. On the other hand, directional selectivity would seem very useful for detecting movements of objects against a stationary background, by telling us that a movement is taking place and in what direction. To follow a moving object against a stationary background, we have to lock onto the object and track it with our eyes; the rest of the scene then slips across the retina, an event that otherwise occurs only rarely. Such slippage, with every contour in the scene moving across the retina, must produce a tremendous storm of activity in our cortex.