The theme for this year’s gift swapping was framed photographs.

Among other things, I gave framed pictures of my niece to my parents, my grandmother, my brothers, and to some of my cousins. Meanwhile, my brother gave me a gorgeous studio shot of the baby in a beautiful frame. My cousin filled an antique frame with a sepia portrait of my niece. And my godmother restored two black and white photos of my grandparents.

I’ve been taking pictures for as long as I can remember. My first camera was a Yogi Bear Instamat. I’m a firm believer in capturing those Kodak moments, evidenced by the stacks of photo albums piled in an enormous chest at the back of my parents’ shed.

A picture captures a memory. Funny that I don’t feel the same way about home videos as I do about a set of photographs.

And I love looking through other people’s snapshots. Or walking through photo exhibits in galleries and museums. Or buying someone else’s black and white night shot of a momument I’ve already photographed.

What is it about pictures?