Capturing Grandparents With Grandchildren

There is a particular kind of photograph I never tire of making: a grandmother bent low with her granddaughter, both of them laughing at something only the two of them heard, afternoon light spilling soft across the living room floor. It is the quietest sort of magic, and it tends to happen when nobody is trying too hard for it — which is exactly why so much of my work happens in the places a family already feels at home. After many years of photographing families across Palm Desert and the Coachella Valley, I can tell you that the bond between grandparents and grandchildren is one of the most honest, tender things I get to witness through my lens — and one of the most worth preserving.

If you have found your way here, you are probably thinking about scheduling photographs of your parents or grandparents with the little ones, and you want it to feel real, not stiff. Maybe the family is gathering for the season. Maybe a grandparent's health has made this year feel important. Maybe you simply realized, all at once, how quickly the children are growing. Whatever brought you here, I want to walk you through everything — the why, the when, the where, and the how — so that when we do meet, you already feel calm about it.

Why grandparents and grandchildren photos matter more than you think

We tend to document the milestones — newborns, first birthdays, weddings — and somehow the everyday relationship between a grandparent and a grandchild slips by uncaptured. Yet that relationship is often the warmest one in a child's life. Grandparents bring a patience and an unhurried attention that the rest of us, busy with school runs and work, can rarely match.

A few honest reasons families in the desert tell me they finally booked a session:

• Time, plainly. None of us know how many seasons we have together. A photograph of your father lifting your son into the air becomes priceless the moment it can no longer be re-created.
• The children are changing fast. The toddler who clings to Grandma's leg will be a self-possessed nine-year-old before you know it. Each stage is its own short chapter.
• Distance. So many families here are split between the valley and somewhere else — grandparents wintering in Palm Springs while the grandchildren live in Los Angeles or beyond. The visits are precious and finite, and they deserve to be remembered.
• Legacy. These are the images that hang in hallways for decades. They are the ones grandchildren return to as grown adults, looking for a face they loved.

I always tell clients: you are not just taking a nice picture, you are making an heirloom. That is not a word I use lightly.

The best time of year for desert sessions

The Coachella Valley has its own calendar, and it shapes everything about a photo session.

Snowbird season (November through April) is the sweet spot, and not only because the weather is glorious. This is when so many grandparents are actually here — settled into their winter homes in Indian Wells, La Quinta, Rancho Mirage, and Palm Desert, with the grandchildren visiting over the holidays and on school breaks. The light in these months is clean and warm, the temperatures are kind to little ones and to older knees alike, and the desert itself is at its most photogenic. If your family only overlaps in the valley for a week or two each winter, this is when we make it happen.

Spring (March and April) brings the wildflowers and a softness to the landscape that I love. Mornings are still comfortable.

Summer (roughly late May through September) is the honest exception. Our heat is real, and I would never ask a grandparent or a young child to stand in 110-degree afternoon sun. If you are visiting in summer, we simply shift our thinking: an early sunrise session before the heat builds, or an indoor or shaded setting. It is absolutely doable — we just plan around the desert rather than against it.

My short advice: if you can choose, choose the cooler half of the year. If you cannot, trust me to adjust, and we will still come away with something beautiful.

Golden hour, and why I almost always shoot it

You will hear photographers talk about "golden hour" — the stretch shortly after sunrise and shortly before sunset when the light turns warm, low, and forgiving. In the desert it is especially spectacular, because our open skies and pale landscape let that light wrap around everyone.

For grandparents and grandchildren photographed outdoors, golden hour does something practical, too. The soft, angled light is gentle on older skin and flattering to everyone. The deep shadows that pool under the eyes at noon simply are not there, and nobody is fighting the light to keep their eyes open. It buys us a window where a three-year-old is more likely to be cooperative than melting down, and where a grandparent does not feel they are baking. When we work indoors instead, I lean on soft natural window light, which is every bit as kind.

In winter, golden hour comes at a very civilized time — late afternoon, well before anyone's dinner or bedtime. In summer, we lean toward sunrise. Either way, I build the whole session around that light.

Where to photograph: my favorite Coachella Valley settings

Location matters more than people expect, because the right setting puts everyone at ease and tells a piece of your story. Most of my sessions stay close to home — inside the place a family actually lives, or at a familiar local park or garden — and that is by design, not by accident. Here are the settings I reach for most in multigenerational work, roughly in the order I tend to suggest them.

The grandparents' own home or garden

This is almost always my first suggestion, and my signature way of working. If your parents have a winter home with a pretty courtyard, a citrus tree, a sunlit sitting room, or a comfortable patio, that is where I most want to be. Children relax in a familiar place, grandparents are not navigating unfamiliar terrain, and the images carry real meaning because they were made where the family actually gathers. A grandfather reading on his own back patio with a grandchild tucked under his arm is worth more than any grand backdrop. Indoors, I work with the soft daylight coming through the windows; out in the garden, we time things for the gentle end of the day.

A familiar local park or garden

When a family would rather be outside with a little more room, I steer toward a nearby park or public garden over the open desert. The parks and green spaces around Palm Desert and La Quinta give us lawns, shade trees, and smooth paths, with benches and restrooms close at hand — which matters enormously when a group spans ages three to eighty. If your heart is set on that classic wide-desert backdrop, the scenic edges of the valley can certainly deliver it, and I am happy to advise on the best spots; but I keep any outdoor session gentle and accessible. We find a comfortable patch of ground at golden hour and let the light do the work, rather than hiking out into the brush.

Manicured gardens and resort grounds

The valley is full of lush, walkable greenery — think the kind of resort lawns, palm groves, and flowering grounds around Rancho Mirage and Indian Wells. These are wonderful when there are mobility considerations, because the paths are smooth and there is shade and seating close by.

A meaningful local spot

Sometimes the best location is wherever this particular family loves to be — a favorite park in Palm Desert, the spot where you always get ice cream, a grandparent's golf club at the quiet end of the day. Tell me your traditions and we will build around them.

If you would like help thinking through this, I wrote more about choosing the right setting for a larger group in my guide to planning an extended family photo session in the desert, which pairs nicely with this one.

What to wear

Wardrobe is where most families get tangled up, and the fix is gentler than the internet makes it sound: aim for a group that clearly belongs together, not a matched uniform.

• Choose a palette, not a uniform. Two or three soft, complementary colors across the whole group reads beautifully. Warm neutrals — cream, oatmeal, sand, dusty blue, soft terracotta — sing against the desert and never date the photographs.
• Dress for the season and the ground. Breathable fabrics in our warmth, and comfortable shoes if we will be walking a garden or park path.
• Let the grandparents be themselves. If your grandmother always wears a particular scarf or your grandfather his favorite hat, keep it. Those details are part of who they are, and the grandchildren will treasure them.
• Keep the children comfortable. A scratchy collar or stiff shoes is the fastest route to a meltdown. Comfort buys cooperation.
• Skip large logos and busy patterns, which pull the eye away from faces.

I am always happy to look at outfit ideas before the session. A quick photo of what everyone is planning saves a lot of second-guessing.

How I actually run the session

This is the part I most want to reassure you about, because the word "photoshoot" makes some people — especially older relatives and shy children — go tense. My whole approach is built to dissolve that tension.

I work slowly and I let things unfold. That measured pace is not a sales pitch; it is genuinely how I photograph. I am not going to bark poses or rush anyone. We start with a few simple, anchored setups so everyone feels the ground under their feet, and then I step back and let the real connection surface.

The best frames are usually unposed. Once a grandparent and grandchild forget about me, the magic appears on its own — a shared secret, a piggyback, a story being told, a hand being held. I am watching for that flicker of something true — a look, a gesture, a burst of laughter — that sets this exact pairing apart from any other. My job is to be ready when it arrives.

I give children small jobs, not commands. "Can you show Grandpa your favorite tree?" works far better than "stand still and smile." Movement and play loosen everyone, and the grandparents light up watching it.

I pace it around the youngest and the oldest. We take breaks. We have water. We do the most important group frames early, while energy is high, and save the loose, playful stuff for when everyone has warmed up.

I capture the range. By the end I want you to have the formal, everyone-looking-and-smiling portrait that goes on the wall and the candid, in-between moments that capture the relationship as it really is. You should have both.

Common questions families ask me

How long does a session take?For grandparents and grandchildren, I usually plan for about an hour to ninety minutes. That is enough to settle in without exhausting the little ones or the grandparents. If we are combining it with a larger extended-family gathering, we allow more.

What if a grandparent has limited mobility?This is very common and never a problem. I choose locations with smooth access, seating, and shade, and I build poses around being seated. Some of the most beautiful images I have ever made are of a seated grandparent with grandchildren gathered close — there is a natural gravity and warmth to it.

What if my child is shy or has a hard time with new people?Completely normal, and I expect it. I never force a nervous child. We let them warm up at their own pace, often by ignoring me entirely and just being with Grandma. By the second half of the session they have usually forgotten to be shy.

Can we include multiple generations — parents too?Absolutely, and I encourage it. A frame with grandparents, parents, and children together is the kind of multigenerational image families treasure most. We can do the full group, then break out the grandparent-grandchild pairings specifically.

Should we do it indoors or outdoors?In our cooler months, outdoors at golden hour is hard to beat. In the heat of summer, or for a frailer grandparent, a beautifully lit indoor or shaded setting is a lovely choice. There is no wrong answer.

What about a brand-new baby?Those first portraits of a grandparent holding a newborn grandchild are among the most moving I make. If you are in that season, you may also enjoy my thoughts on newborn photography in the Coachella Valley.

Mistakes I gently steer families away from

• Waiting for the "perfect" time. It rarely comes. The children get older and schedules get harder. The best time is usually this season's visit.
• Over-scheduling the day. Do not stack the session on top of a big lunch, a long drive, and three other plans. Tired children and tired grandparents photograph as tired. Give the session a little room.
• Forcing rigid poses. The instinct to line everyone up and demand smiles produces the stiffest results. Trust the loose, connected approach — it is what makes these photographs feel alive.
• Forgetting the small details. The way Grandpa holds his coffee, the necklace Grandma never takes off, the children's scuffed little shoes. Those details are the story, and I am always looking for them.
• Not printing them at all. Please, do not let these live solely on a phone. Print them. Frame them. Make the album. These are the images that matter most precisely because they are meant to be held and passed down.

A few words before we begin

After many years and many families, the grandparent-and-grandchild sessions still catch me off guard with how much they move me. There is something about watching the oldest and youngest members of a family delight in each other — across all those years — that reminds me exactly why I do this work.

My promise to you is a session that feels honest and warm, with images that genuinely look and feel like your people. Nothing stiff, nothing staged — just your family, the right light for wherever we are, and me quietly catching the moments that matter.

So if the generations in your family are about to be under one roof — this visit, this gathering, while everyone is together — that is the moment worth photographing. Tell me about your people through my contact page, and we will find the right day, the right light, and a place that feels like yours.