White Mountains Photography Retreat: What I Learned Behind the Lens
I arrived in Lincoln on a Friday afternoon with my camera, my pillow, and a nervous little buzz in my chest. Six strangers, one shared Airbnb, and a whole weekend built around photography and pushing creative limits. It felt outside my comfort zone in the best way. The kind of uncomfortable that makes you pay attention.
Caitlin Matte came with me and thank God she did because I would’ve been so in my head otherwise. We started that first night with a sunset family session at Echo Lake. Five beautiful humans and six photographers tiptoeing around each other, each of us trying to get the shot without stepping on anyone’s toes. The kids got cold. There were a few chaotic moments. But honestly, it was a perfect example of what real family sessions are. Not Pinterest-perfect. Just movement and honesty and the kind of love that’s not afraid to show up messy.
That night, we stayed up way too late soaking up editing tips from Cassie, one of the workshop leaders. Her tones, the depth in her work, her eye for the little things—it was like watching magic happen in real time. We laughed until our cheeks hurt. Isn’t it funny how fast strangers can start to feel like old friends?
Saturday morning was slower. Coffee, workflow chats, pricing breakdowns with Cayla (our other amazing leader), and then editing some of the photos we shot the night before. We all knew what was coming that afternoon and tried to rest while we could.
We started the hike to Artists Bluff around five. The Canadian wildfires had blown in this surreal haze that diffused the light into something dreamy and cinematic. Not ideal circumstances but man, the sky showed up for us anyway.
I didn’t bring sneakers. Or a bra, if I’m being honest. So I ended up trailing behind our model’s three-year-old, Eliot, who chatted with me about monster trucks and scaled the rocky path like it was no big deal. He was unfazed. I was sweating and pretending I wasn’t scared of heights.
The top was stunning. Our maternity model was wrapped in these beautiful fabrics that moved with the wind and the mountain. I stood there taking it all in still afraid of falling, but so glad I made the climb.
After the hike, we drove to Sugar Hill and met up with Cassie’s family. Four kids. Golden light. Wildflowers. Chaos in the best way. We chased grasshoppers, climbed rocks, and ended the day the way it started, rooted in connection and love.
That night we edited again, but this time it felt different. It wasn’t just about photos anymore. It was about stories. About growth. About where we’ve been and where we’re headed.
Sunday morning came quick, and we were all packing up, buzzing with that “I can’t wait to get home and create” energy. But before we left, we squeezed in one last session—something totally different. A cool family of three at the Lin-Wood skate park. Harsh light. Bold shadows. A reminder that not every session needs golden hour to be magic. That session gave me so much creative freedom and joy.
Cassie and Cayla—thank you for making space for all of it. For the learning and the laughter. For the vulnerability and the beauty.
And to the other photographers who showed up, thank you for being brave with me.
This weekend reminded me that collaboration is what happens at the top. That there’s room for all of us. That sometimes inspiration lives in the hike you didn’t want to take or the strangers you almost didn’t meet.
Who knows... maybe a Lily James Retreat is in the cards someday.
