May 26 2026 | By: Always Remember Photography
Every spring I get baby ducks — first for my grandchildren, and then, as a bonus, for my clients.
This particular weekend, my grandson from Fox Chapel came to stay with me. He is almost two years old and talks constantly — just not in any language the rest of us have been able to crack.
We spent the weekend exploring my 40 acres of woodland property near Mars and Cranberry Township, Pennsylvania — the same property where I photograph children from across Butler County, Wexford, and the Pittsburgh Area.
I had been looking forward to photographing my grandson with the baby ducks for weeks. In my mind, I pictured this sweet little story unfolding naturally — him gently following behind them, completely fascinated, while I captured it all.
As a children’s photographer, I knew better. At his age, attention spans are measured in minutes, and expecting a toddler and a handful of baby ducks to cooperate at the same time is optimistic at best. But there was still that tiny part of me hoping maybe this time it would magically work.
So I attempted a session with just me, him, and the ducklings. I was hoping for five minutes. I got two. The ducks wandered one direction, he sprinted the other, and just like that, the session was over.
Because toddlers do not care about your plans. And honestly, that is exactly why I love photographing them.
After fifteen years behind the camera creating fine art portraits for children across Mars, Cranberry Township, and the greater Pittsburgh area, I already knew the answer was not to force it. So I went straight back to the drawing board… and called in a duck wrangler for round two later that evening.
For the second session I brought in a helper — a duck wrangler whose only job was keeping the ducklings where I needed them. It helped. But let me be honest — even with a duck wrangler, you are still working with a two-year-old. I was able to place him at the gate. Everything else was entirely up to him.
Baby ducks are the same. They move as a unit, always together and never in the direction that you would hope for. At two, the child is entirely in charge — and so, it turns out, are the ducks. Nobody is taking direction from anybody. They were, in that way, perfectly matched.
And yet.
This time, I brought in a helper — a dedicated duck wrangler whose job was keeping the ducklings near the child. It helped. Slightly.
But let me be honest — even with a duck wrangler, I was still photographing a not quite two-year-old. I placed him at the gate. Everything after that was entirely up to him.
The ducks were no different. They did not head in the direction I was hoping for. At two, the child is entirely in charge — and so, it turns out, are the ducks. Nobody is taking direction from anybody. The ducks had their plans. My grandson had his. Somehow, they were perfectly matched.
And then it happened.
For one brief moment, my grandson pushed open the old wooden gate with his entire little body, determined in the way only toddlers can be. The ducklings waited just on the other side, tiny and curious, watching him like they had been expecting him all along.
And then he noticed the baby ducks. Everything slowed for just a second. He stood there quietly at the gate, completely caught in watching those tiny yellow ducklings.
That was the moment.
The one worth waiting for.
The one worth two sessions, muddy shoes, wandering ducks, and absolutely no cooperation from anyone involved.
Next came the little green wagon.
My duck wrangler carefully placed the ducklings inside, which would have been a solid plan had the ducklings stayed inside. The two biggest immediately flung themselves right back out again, tiny wings flapping, heading off toward freedom.
My grandson thought this was the greatest thing he had ever witnessed.
Without hesitation, he ran after them, laughing as the runaway ducklings waddled through the grass like they had somewhere very important to be.
And just like that, another moment unfolded exactly the way it was supposed to.
Not posed.
Not planned.
Just a little boy following tiny yellow ducklings into another adventure.
By this point, I was absolutely pushing my luck, but we made one final stop at the mud puddle. The plan was simple — have him stand in the grass while three tiny ducklings swam in the mud puddle. Sweet. Simple. Easy.
At least in theory.
He stood at the edge of the puddle for one thoughtful little second, looking down at the muddy water then... Straight into the puddle he went.
Before the ducks were even added.
Arms stretched out for balance, eyes locked on the mud beneath his boots, completely fascinated by the squish and splash of it all. He did not care one bit that his shoes were soaked.
Honestly, I think the puddle itself may have been his favorite part of the evening.
So my duck wrangler quickly added the ducklings . Somehow, in the middle of all the chaos, we captured the final moment.
A muddy little boy and three baby ducks.
One perfectly imperfect childhood memory.
When parents bring me a two-year-old, they sometimes worry their child will not cooperate. I understand why. Toddlers are wonderfully unpredictable.
The muddy boots. The wandering. The complete fascination with three tiny ducklings while he narrates in a language only he understands. That is not chaos. That is childhood — exactly as it felt at this age — and it is the story I am here to tell.
Next year, when the ducks arrive again, he'll be almost three. I can't wait.
Because someday the muddy boots will be gone. The toddler language will disappear. The little hand pushing open the old wooden gate will suddenly look bigger. And the boy who once followed ducklings through the grass will grow into someone else entirely.
But the art that I create will remember him exactly as he was.
If you are a parent in Mars, Cranberry Township, Wexford, Fox Chapel, or Butler County PA and you have a two-year-old you are not sure is ready — they are ready.
At Always Remember Photography, I do not expect children to sit still and smile at the camera. My signature style Fine Art children’s portraits are built around storytelling, movement, wonder, and preserving childhood exactly as it is.
The baby ducks are only here for a few weeks. But the woodland property — the ponds, the creek, the wildflowers, and the stories waiting between the trees — remains long after the ducklings have grown.
If you missed the duck sessions this year, the magic is still here. The Forever Bear Storybook Sessions, Summer Days at The Creek, and my Custom Fine Art Children Sessions are each created for the same reason: to preserve the magic of childhood before it slips away.