Phoebe Greenwood is right (Sunsets, disasters, dinners: we now record them all with our phones. But what is that doing to our souls?, 29 August). Having been a photojournalist, I find that the camera can interfere with fully experiencing the moment.

Many years ago, my wife discovered previously unknown relatives in Denmark. When we visited, they took us to a cemetery where one of her ancestors was buried.

She stood there quietly for a few minutes and began to cry. I started photographing and suddenly realised that I had shifted into work mode, both physically and mentally. I put the camera down and gave her a hug.

After deciding that I wasn’t going to take photos when not working, we were on a whale-watching trip. I was the only one who saw the whale. Everyone else was looking at their mobile phones.
Greg Lewis
Clovis, California, US

In the absence of a personal camera, in the late 1960s, the commonly used alternative for young lovers to record their undying devotion to each other was the photo booth.

Apparently they were used by some to provide passport photos, but I recall that on Friday and Saturday evenings in Birmingham city centre, they were an essential part of a good night out. Not only would you get four photos to share; the curtain also provided a few moments of privacy, although only from the waist upwards!
Alan Payling
Torquay, Devon