I trust anyone can understand why time is an inexorable part of photography. Without it, even an infinitesimally small amount —1/8000th of a second perhaps— there would be nothing to register, there would be no history to know, no moment to record, no story to tell.
Therein lies the true beauty of photography. Despite thousands of years of civilization and massive technical development, photography remains the only way human beings have of accumulating a piece of our ever-changing world and permanently registering it without the person executing the registration having to necessarily partake in the process. This means that, unlike the written word or the registered voice, all sub-conscience biases the individual executing the registration might have, he or she could potentially remain a neutral bystander as opposed to having to actively interpret the world around them for the registration to take place (literature etc.).
Now with the advent of digital photography, we can even say —with some degree of confidence— that these registrations of time will last forever, due simply to the non-physical nature of digital information.
I deem myself fortunate to have taken on the important task of “saving” pieces of time for posterity. We photographers are, after all, those who decide what does and what doesn’t get saved. A great honor it might be but an even more somber task it is. Knowing all along, that despite my best efforts, the very best moments will almost surely be lost to time…
As Miguel de Cervantes’ Don Quixote famously said: “One man scorned and covered with scars still strove with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable stars; and the world will be better for this.”