Time goes by and leaves behind its traces. It marks us and everything else as well.
Sooner or later, we will die, and although this might seem like a banality, for
most of us it takes it´s time to actually understand this simple truth.

Photographs may conserve traces of our lives and how we once looked like, but that will only make a difference as long as there will be someone who has known us and still cares.

Everything we do disappears in the fog left behind by the time that has passed, only the photographic image preserves that what was and now is no more, and never will be again.

I flip through my family album, see myself as a child and as a young adult, and I am strangely touched by this person that I once was, and that I am no more. I see the pictures of my father and mother, he already frail and she died along time ago. It is not much what I know about them.

I see the pictures of my son and his wife, they too bear already the marks of time in their faces, how could it be otherwise?

My wife and I will go someday, sooner or later, one after the other, probably not together, and I
don’t know what meaning all these pictures will have for those still alive.