A honest field report from a family photo session in Val Gardena: morning light (not too early, cause of course he sleeps) Sassolungo views, and one very opinionated two-year-old.
I’m going to tell you things that most photographers won’t probably say out lout so, if you’re imagining a family photoshoot in the Dolomites where everyone arrives smiling, the toddler happily holding mum and dad’s hands, and we effortlessly wander through flower meadows until the sun breaks the pink morning glow in the mountains… I’m afraid I have to disappoint you, lol.
As both a family photographer and a mum, I can tell you that’s almost never how it starts.
Toddlers don’t usually wake up thinking, “Today feels like the perfect day to cooperate with a stranger carrying two cameras.” (For the record, I started with my main one, then switched to my “low profile” cameraswhich is PERFECT for family sessions) They have much more important things on their minds. Like whether those enormous alpine cows are friendly or terrifying. Whether the tractor making a deafening noise across the meadow is fascinating or suspicious. Or whether Mum’s hand is currently the only safe place in the world.


And honestly? That’s exactly as it should be.
The little boy I met in Val Gardena at the end of June was no different. At first, I was simply another unfamiliar adult asking him to do something that made very little sense from his point of view. Before we could even think about taking photographs, he needed time to figure me out. There wasn’t any rush. Trust comes before beautiful pictures, every single time.
Meanwhile, the cows had already become the stars of the morning. He couldn’t stop looking at them, completely fascinated by their size, while also making sure they stayed at what he considered a perfectly safe distance. I completely understood him. Those cows look huge even to adults.
Our original plan was to start near one of my favourite little ponds, but when we arrived we were greeted by the unmistakable soundtrack of summer in the Alps: tractors cutting the grass. If you’ve ever met a two-year-old who loves machines but isn’t entirely convinced about the amount of noise they produce, you’ll know exactly what happened next. A mix of confusion and amazement depicted all over his cute face.
So we did what parents do every single day: we adapted.

Instead of insisting that this was the perfect location because I’d planned it that way, we quietly wandered until we found a peaceful meadow covered in wildflowers. Late June is one of my favourite times in Val Gardena because everything seems to bloom at once. It was beautiful enough to make any photographer happy, but our little explorer still wasn’t quite ready to forget about the tractors.

And that’s one of those moments when experience matters far more than having the perfect location.
I’ve learned that children don’t switch moods because an adult asks them to smile. They switch when they feel safe, when something catches their imagination, or quite simply when they’re ready. The best thing I can do is stop expecting a timeline and start following theirs.

Eventually, we stumbled across one of the wooden play installations along the PanaRaida trail: a little cable car where Mum, Dad and their son could all climb aboard together. Suddenly, nobody was thinking about photos anymore. They were laughing, helping each other, pretending to travel through the mountains, and I was finally able to disappear into the background. That’s always my favourite part of a family session. The moment people stop noticing the photographer is usually the moment they start being completely themselves.

Not long afterwards came the only proper run through the meadow. Just one joyful sprint across the grass, straight through the morning dew left by a heavy thunderstorm the night before. His shoes were soaked within seconds.



I don’t think I’ve ever photographed a family or a couple in the Dolomites without somebody ending up with wet feet.
The truth is, those tiny unexpected moments are exactly what I hope families will remember years from now. Not whether everyone smiled at the camera at precisely the right time, but how their child cautiously watched the cows, found the confidence to play, laughed inside a wooden cable car and carefully picked the next “experiment”. That’s the story I want my photographs to tell.
So if you’re looking for a family photographer in Val Gardena, don’t worry if your toddler is shy, distracted, fascinated by cows, obsessed with tractors or completely unimpressed by my carefully planned locations. I’ve worked with enough little humans (and lived with enough of them) to know that the best photographs almost always begin the moment we stop trying to make everything go according to plan.
If you’re looking after toddler-friendly hikes, WilDolomites might have the best ones for you :)

