Embracing Motherhood Through the Lens of Time:

A Maternity Shoot at Borst Park, Centralia




Whispering Tales of Renaissance


In the enchanted grounds of Borst Park, I crafted a maternity tale steeped in the mystique of the Renaissance. As both the photographer and stylist, I swathed my expecting muse in textures and tones borrowed from a painter's palette. The luxurious fur and vibrant red of her skirt were not mere fabrics but the very essence of a bygone epoch, now cradling the gentle swell of new life. Through my lens, I captured not just images, but whispered conversations with the past, echoed in the frost-kissed air of the park.

Victorian Grace


As we move through the park, we find our muse in front of a quaint historical backdrop, her silhouette framed by the elegant architecture. Her white gown, adorned with delicate embroidery, evokes images of Victorian sophistication. Each detail, from the lace to the soft ribbons, tells a story of refined elegance. The grace of motherhood is captured in the fluidity of her movements and the gentle curves that the dress lovingly embraces.

Styling this scene was like choreographing a dance with history, each fold of the dress, a note in a timeless lullaby. My camera, a silent observer, captured the poetry of maternal grace framed in architectural elegance.


Ethereal Whispers


In the final series, nestled in the wooden embrace of Borst Park's ancient groves, our maternity tale unfolds with a whimsical charm. The expectant mother, arrayed in fabrics soft as morning mist and a headpiece that sparkled with the promise of magic, was a vision of mythical grace. The rustic backdrop of weathered wood and whispers of yesteryear provided a perfect tableau for this enchanting narrative. With each frame, I captured the timeless dance between the soon-to-be mother and the woodland realm—a dance of quiet expectation and the tender touch of nature's cradle.


As her story wove through the whispering pines and the delicate frost, a new chapter began with the gentle weight of her child in arms. Clad in pastels that echoed the softness of dawn's first light, our forest queen held her little one close, wrapped in a cocoon of love and fur as soft as a fawn's ear. Through my lens, I saw not just the tender bond between mother and child but also the continuing story of life itself, framed by the enchanting wilds of the park.