Last week, my son and I headed to Robin Hill Park to photograph the sample images for our upcoming Books & Bloomsevent.
I had packed a little stack of vintage children's books, a blanket, and a basket. My plan was simple: let him play while I captured a few sweet photographs.
What I didn't plan for was the story that unfolded.
First, can I just say—I don't deserve that little boy.
He was perfect.
No coaching. No bribing. No "look at Mommy." He happily flipped through each book, wandered through the flowers, and, completely on his own, tucked little blossoms between the pages as bookmarks.
It was one of those moments you wish you could freeze forever.
The books themselves made the morning even more meaningful.
They had been passed down through our family, and now my son was enjoying the very same stories that another child had loved decades ago.
As he turned another page, something fluttered to the ground.
A worn recipe card.
Written in my grandma's handwriting.
It was her recipe for our family's old German apple strudel.
I immediately texted my mom a picture.
Her response made me smile.
She said, "I was reading that book and used the recipe card as a bookmark so I wouldn't forget to give it to you."
Somehow, the recipe had stayed tucked inside all this time.
It made me stop.
Because that's how family stories work.
A recipe card becomes a bookmark.
A bookmark becomes a surprise.
A surprise becomes a memory my son got to be part of without even realizing it.
Nothing about that moment was planned.
But I don't think I'll ever forget it.
As a photographer, people often assume I'm preserving smiles.
I'm preserving the things that become stories years later.
The books that have been loved for generations.
The handwriting you'll someday miss.
The flowers your little one tucked into a book because they thought it was beautiful.
The recipe that somehow finds its way back home.
Those are the heirlooms.
Those are the moments our children inherit.
And maybe that's exactly why I'm so excited about Books & Blooms.
Not because we'll take pretty pictures in a garden.
But because one day, years from now, your child may pull one of those photographs from an album and remember the morning they read books with you, wandered through the flowers, and made a memory they didn't know would last a lifetime.
If that sounds like your kind of morning, I'd love to have you join us.
Books & Blooms
Saturday, August 8 | Morning
Robin Hill Park
The booking link is now open, and I can't wait to see your family there.
