The grandmas led the way up the hill at Tiburon Open Space. Four generations, hiking together, the whole crew making it to the top—which says something about their energy.
Golden hour light was pouring in. Fog rolling over the bridge. Those bay views were impossible to ignore. The kids found a rope swing under an old tree and didn’t let go of it. One brother pushed his sister. Someone’s cousin played nearby. Two women laughed so hard on that same swing, the kind of laugh that changes a photo.
Cass got there early, grabbed them a parking spot (tricky up here), and stayed for the soft backlight, the dusty paths, the moments between the posed ones. A boy mid-spin with his arms out. A mom stealing a kiss from her son. Four generations standing together under the canopy, the light filtering through.
