may 19, 2025– trexler nature preserve
There’s something about the way the air shifts in early spring. How it holds warmth but still moves. We met in the quiet hours of the evening at Trexler Nature Preserve. The kind of night that didn’t need to try to be beautiful. It just was.
Sara and Wyatt moved through it like they belonged to it. Like the evening was theirs. I’ve known Sara in a few versions of life. Coworkers, then friends, now here with her son as a returning client. And yet, even with all that shared history, it was like I wasn’t even there. The world sort of fell away around them. Just the two of them, wrapped up in something only they could feel.
Wyatt’s only a few months old, but their bond already felt deep. Grounded. Like something that had always existed between them. I’ve seen mothers love their babies before, but this felt different. There was a stillness to it. A knowing. The kind of love that doesn't need to be said out loud because it already fills the space.
There were these tiny moments. Wyatt’s hand curled into her shirt. Sara laughing at something only he could make her feel. Him looking up at her like she was the entire sky. And maybe she was.
Sessions like this remind me why I do what I do. Not to capture what things looked like. But to hold on to what they felt like. To honor what was real, even if no one else saw it but them.