Grandparents & Grandchildren Together

There is a particular sound I listen for during these sessions. It is the laugh a grandparent gives when a grandchild does something only that child would do — climbs into a lap uninvited, tugs a sleeve, whispers a secret that turns into a giggle. I have learned to keep my finger ready when I hear it, because that sound almost always arrives a half-second before the photograph you came for.

Grandparent and grandchild portraits are some of the most quietly important pictures I make. They are not about a perfect outfit or a flawless smile. They are about proof — proof that these two people knew each other, loved each other, and spent an ordinary afternoon in the same frame. Years from now, that is the picture a family reaches for first.

If you are thinking about photographing the grandparents and the little ones together here in the desert, this is everything I would tell a friend before we began.

Why these photos matter more than people expect

Most families come to me for the obvious reasons — a milestone birthday, a visit while everyone is finally in town, a grandparent who is slowing down. But the deeper reason is almost always the same, even when it goes unspoken: time.

Grandchildren change month to month. Grandparents change too, in ways that are harder to talk about. A photograph holds a specific version of both of them in place — the grandfather who could still get down on the floor, the grandmother whose hands looked exactly like that, the baby who fit in the crook of an arm before she grew into a girl who runs ahead on the trail.

For so many adults, a single photograph of themselves as a small child on a grandmother's lap becomes the one image that brings her voice back. That is the assignment. Not a pretty card for the fridge — a doorway back to a person.

The best time of year in the Coachella Valley

If you have any flexibility at all, season matters here more than almost anywhere else I have worked.

November through April is ideal. This is snowbird season, and it is no accident — the desert is genuinely lovely then. Mornings are crisp, afternoons are warm without being punishing, and the light is soft and generous. It is also when out-of-town grandparents are most likely to be in the valley, which solves the hardest logistical problem of all: getting everyone in the same place.

If your grandparents winter in Palm Desert, Rancho Mirage, or one of the gated communities in Indian Wells and La Quinta, plan the session for that window. Trying to coordinate a multi-generation shoot in July, when half the family has fled the heat, is a frustration I would rather spare you.

Summer (June through September) is not impossible, but it asks more of us. We shoot early — I mean genuinely early, often within the first hour after sunrise — or we wait until the very end of the day. Midday in the desert summer is hard on everyone, and it is especially hard on a ninety-year-old and a toddler, who are the two people I am least willing to overheat. If summer is your only option, an indoor or shaded-patio session at a home can be lovely and far kinder to everyone involved.

Timing the day: working with little ones and older bodies

A grandparent-grandchild session lives or dies on energy levels, and energy is not evenly distributed across a family.

• Babies and toddlers are happiest mid-morning, after breakfast and before the first nap. A hungry or tired two-year-old will not be charmed by anyone, grandparent included.
• Older grandparents often have a best window too — frequently the morning, before the day's fatigue sets in. If a grandparent uses a cane, a walker, or tires easily, tell me. I will plan a location with minimal walking and somewhere to sit between frames.
• Golden hour is beautiful, and I love it, but it is late and it is brief. For families where the youngest or oldest member fades by evening, I will happily trade dramatic light for a calmer, well-rested morning. A relaxed grandparent in flat morning light beats a melting one in spectacular gold every time.

I build in margin. These sessions are not rushed, and they are not a sprint of poses. We let the child warm up. We let the grandparent settle. Some of my favorite frames happen twenty minutes in, once everyone has forgotten I am there.

Where to photograph

Most of my grandparent-grandchild sessions happen in one of two places: inside a family's home, or at a nearby park or garden. That is by design — both keep everyone close, comfortable, and at ease. Beyond that, the right choice comes down to who your grandparents are and how far they can comfortably move. A few that work beautifully:

At home. This is where I do my best work with multi-generation families, and I cannot recommend it enough when a session includes an older grandparent or a baby. Home is where the real relationship lives — the kitchen where cookies get made, the favorite chair, the backyard. I work with the soft, natural light that comes through the windows, which means no travel, no heat exposure between the car and the spot, and grandparents who relax in a way they rarely do in public. If the grandparents are the ones wintering here, their place in Sun City or Trilogy or a Rancho Mirage condo can be perfect.

A local park or garden. When a family wants to be outdoors, I steer toward the green, shaded places close to home rather than anywhere remote. The Living Desert in Palm Desert, the gardens around Sunnylands in Rancho Mirage, a neighborhood park, or a resort's grounds give us greenery, shade, and benches — gentle, walkable settings with somewhere to sit between frames. Outdoors we plan around golden hour, the warm light in the first hour after sunrise or the last before sunset.

A patio or backyard. A shaded patio sits right between the two: the comfort and privacy of home with a little open air and garden behind you. For summer sessions especially, it is often the kindest choice of all.

A meaningful place. Sometimes the best location is the one with a story — the golf course a grandfather has played for thirty years, the pool where the grandkids learn to swim every winter, the diner where they always go for pancakes. And if you dream of that wide Coachella Valley desert backdrop, we can choose an easy, level overlook where no one has to scramble over rocks. Tell me what is meaningful, and we will build the session around it.

What everyone should wear

I keep wardrobe advice simple, because over-styling these photos is a common mistake. You want to look at the picture and see the people, not the outfits.

• Aim for a shared palette, not a uniform. Two or three soft colors spread across the group looks timeless. Identical shirts tend to date the photo and flatten the personalities.
• Lean toward soft, muted tones — creams, sage, dusty blue, warm neutrals. They photograph beautifully against the desert and they never compete with faces.
• Comfort matters more for these subjects than any other. A toddler in a stiff, scratchy outfit will spend the session trying to take it off. A grandmother in shoes that hurt cannot relax. Choose clothes everyone can actually move and sit in.
• Mind the desert sun. In warmer months, light, breathable fabrics keep everyone comfortable, and a hat can be both practical and charming.

If you want a deeper walk-through of palettes and pieces, I keep a guide on what to wear for desert family photos that applies here too.

Getting real moments, not stiff poses

Nearly every family arrives with some version of the same worry: "The kids won't sit still" or "My dad freezes up in front of a camera." Good. Stiff, frozen, perfectly-still is not what we are after anyway.

Here is how I actually work these sessions:

I give the pair something to do together. A book to read on a bench. A walk, hand in hand. A grandparent teaching a grandchild something — how to skip a stone, how to whistle, how to plant a seed. Connection through activity reads as far more genuine than "everyone look here and smile."

I let the child lead, within reason. Young children cannot be directed like adults, and fighting that only produces tears. Instead I follow — and the grandparent's natural delight at whatever the child is doing is the photograph.

I photograph the in-between. The straightened collar, the kiss on the head, the moment a grandfather pulls a giggling boy back into his lap. These small gestures are the ones families treasure, and they only happen when nobody is performing.

I am patient with the grandparents too. Many older adults have not been photographed thoughtfully in years and feel self-conscious. I do not pose them into rigidity. I talk with them, let them hold their grandchild, and wait for the face that softens when they forget the camera.

If your child tends to be shy or slow to warm up, my notes on getting kids to cooperate for photos may set your mind at ease before the day.

Common questions

Should we include the parents, or just grandparents and grandkids?Both, ideally. I almost always make a set of just the grandparents with the children — that is the heart of the session — and then we fold the parents in for a few full three-generation frames. Multi-generation portraits, with everyone from the eldest to the youngest in one image, are increasingly the photograph families want most, especially while a great-grandparent is still with us.

What if a grandparent is in a wheelchair or has limited mobility?We work entirely around it, and beautifully. I bring the children to the grandparent's level rather than the reverse, choose seated compositions, and pick locations with smooth access and no required walking. Limited mobility never means lesser photographs — some of the tenderest frames I have made are of a child curled against a grandparent who could not stand.

How many grandchildren is too many?None is too many — large groups of cousins are a joy — but the bigger the group of little ones, the more I lean on activity and play rather than formal posing. With a crowd of grandchildren, I plan extra time and keep expectations realistic about getting every single child looking and smiling at once. Honestly, the "someone is always looking away" frame is often the truest one.

Our grandparents are only visiting for a week. Can you fit us in?This is exactly why I ask families to reach out as early as they can. When grandparents are in town only briefly, I do everything possible to find a slot. The sooner I know your window, the better.

A few mistakes worth avoiding

• Waiting for the "right time." The right time is now. The most painful conversations I have are with families who meant to book a session and ran out of runway. If the impulse is there, follow it.
• Over-scheduling the day. Do not stack the photo session between a flight and a dinner reservation. Give it air. Tired, rushed people photograph as tired, rushed people.
• Skipping the unglamorous shots. Hands. The two of them from behind, walking away. A grandparent's profile watching a grandchild play. These quiet frames often become the favorites.
• Insisting on the perfect smile. A genuine half-laugh, a look of concentration, a sleepy snuggle — these hold up far longer than a row of forced grins.

Let's make these while we can

These are the photographs I feel most strongly about in all the work I do, because I know exactly where they end up: framed on a hallway wall, tucked in a wallet, pulled out at a memorial service and passed hand to hand. They are how a grandchild keeps a grandparent, and how a grandparent stays young in a family's memory.

If your parents or grandparents are wintering in the valley, or your children are spending the season here, or you simply have a feeling that this is the year to do it — I would be honored to help. You can reach me here, tell me a little about your family, and we will find a morning that works for everyone, even the smallest and the eldest among you.