Amelia and Miriam hurried to the meeting room, whose rounded windows set deep in thick masonry walls offered a distant view of lavender mountains. A dozen men and women had already arrived, and several turned as they entered and nodded greetings.

Dressed in casual slacks and a denim shirt, Martha Dinsk, a small, hardy-looking woman with twinkling blue eyes and a boyish haircut, welcomed them with enthusiasm.

“I’m delighted to be here with you, and to welcome each and every one of you to this workshop, especially as it will be my last in America for several years,” she said. “I anticipate we shall have a glorious time. There’s no place to do photography like Santa Fe with its marvelous light.” She handed folders to everyone.

“All that you will need to know about this week—our daily agenda and a few general rules to keep us on track—is here. I’ll go over this with you tomorrow after you’ve read it and in case you have questions. Right now, we still have enough light for a shoot, and the light is perfect.” She waved toward the windows. “So grab your gear and meet me in the lobby in five minutes.”

Amelia and Miriam hastened to their room, gathered up camera bags and Amelia’s tripod, and waited impatiently for the elevator to take them to the lobby. Moments later, led by Martha, an excited troop of photographers followed her onto the street and hastened toward the Plaza, the historic heart of Santa Fe.

A man, his name tag reading Ben Mercer, fell into step with Amelia and Miriam. “I guess everyone came with someone, except me. May I walk with you?”

Miriam nodded.

Amelia said, “When you’re working at one of these workshops, you’re essentially alone. You get completely absorbed in what you’re doing. But you must know that.”

“This is only my second workshop. I called so often and pleaded so well, Martha finally let me come. Have you been at it long—photography?” he asked.

“About six years,” Amelia replied.

“And you?” he asked Miriam.

“Not very long. Everything I know, my mother, Amelia, has taught me.” It seems easier not to explain the relationship further. Sadie calls Amelia Grandma.

Ben tapped his camera. “I haven’t exhibited or had anything published. Have you?”

“Amelia has,” Miriam said. “She has published several books, and her work is exhibited and sold in a gallery in New York City.”

“I’m impressed,” Ben said.

“We’d best hurry.” Amelia picked up her pace. “Sounds like Martha’s giving instructions.”