This beautiful baby was born in early Spring. The walk to them from the station (sometimes, I drive- but, mostly - I try to use public transport) had me walking past fresh spring blooms: cherry blossoms, daffodils and ducks going mad, pigeons everywhere. Everything seemed so alive outside.

And inside their home, equally so. What I adore about family sessions is that the moments are so authentic. They require very minimal direction. You don't have to tell a father to look smitten with his child. He just does.

The big sister took her duties very seriously and helped with nappy changing. She also helped her father with lunch.

Because it was Spring after a long dark winter...this poem by Ada Limon seemed fitting:

More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor’s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, it’s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of white
and taffy, the world’s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
I’ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, I’ll take it all.