“Don’t put your elbow over that tree hole,” I told Amanda.

Amanda was already used to me nagging her to move her chin and limbs a fraction of an inch this way and that, so she promptly moved her elbow clear of the hole by a few inches without questioning, but I still felt compelled to explain.

“I just saw a snake moving in the hole.”

Amanda raised her eyebrows slightly and moved her elbow an additional inch away from the hole, but other than that, didn’t break the pose. We took a few more shots, and then I investigated the hole again. “I don’t see it anymore.” We changed the pose a little, and continued shooting there before moving on.

I hadn’t expected Amanda to be fazed by the reptilian proximity. This was actually our second snake encounter, and we were only eleven minutes into the session. The first snake came seven minutes in. Amanda was following me into a patch of greenery when she paused and remarked, “Oh, a snake.” She waited for the snake to slither past, and then continued in to pose next to the flowers I had selected.

I had anticipated that I would be an emotional basket case for Amanda’s session, having taken pictures of her since she was a literal baby. But as we walked around Ault Park, where you couldn’t spit without hitting another photographer, I kept hearing others trying frantically to get the attention and cooperation of little ones. (“TICKLE MOMMY! TICKLE MOMMY!”) I remembered all too well the desperate attempts I had made to try to get Amanda’s cooperation for pictures when she was that age or younger. I felt quite lucky and blessed to walk around with this mature, poised, lovely young lady who followed directions flawlessly, took multiple snakes into stride without flinching, and was good company besides.

And although she was absolutely adorable as a baby, she has only continued to grow in beauty and charm, so I didn’t actually feel any regrets seeing her grown up and preparing to make her way in the world.