I recently came to the realisation that I seldom look at the photos on my phone. For years I always wanted the best possible camera to capture every single moment of my kids growing up. It was part of me, and something I enjoyed doing, yet I never look at them.

I am sure one day I will be glad I do all this clicking. Don’t get me wrong, I am a long way from living life through a lens, but I like to capture everything. They might come in handy when age catches up with me and I rely on all of these captured memories to spark the ones in my mind. Until then, they sit waiting for a possible future where I am old but still own a smartphone.

Despite hardly looking at them, they still mean a lot to me. They are simple family snaps. Some adorn our walls, displaying the family times we enjoy so much. I can look at a simple photo and feel all the things that I felt at the time and be instantly transported. They fill this strange place where they are priceless to me, yet are images that if anyone else looked at them would be worthless.

They are not a sum of their parts. They don’t contain world-class composition and expertly exposed colours (all things I fuss over in my other photos) because they don’t need to. These photos capture a snapshot of a time that will never exist again, and in it trap all kinds of emotions. Not only that, but they tell stories of what we were up to at that point, the things we did and how far things have changed.

Despite this realisation, I will continue to snap loads of digital memories. Still buy iCloud storage and better camera phones every year because I know I am building value. They mean everything to me.