I find time-lapse photography fascinating. One of my favorite examples is when someone in the far north points a camera at the North Star during winter and leaves it there overnight. The result is typically an image of silhouetted trees surrounding an array of circles made by the stars traveling across the sky as the Earth spins. Although that picture captures reality, there's no moment when you could ever actually see it simply by looking up. It doesn't actually exist as a single moment; it's only by seeing the time-lapse that you can perceive it.
A more consequential example, although I'm not sure it technically meets the definition of time-lapse, is when a parent takes an image of a child every day, or every Monday, for a series of years and then puts the images together so that they run in sequence. While each individual image might tell a story—"That was Janie at 12, when she first got her braces," or "That was Timothy at 8, when he decided to cut his own hair"—taken in aggregate, the sequence tells a completely different story, as a daughter grows from a scared kindergartner to a smiling college graduate in minutes.
The funny thing

