There’s a version of Donner Lake that most people never see. Not the summer one with the kayaks and the crowded shoreline but the early March one, when the snowpack is at its fullest and the mountains look like they’ve been painted white all the way to the ridge. No crowds, no noise, no competition for the good spots. Just light and water and Sierra Nevada peaks stacked up as far as you can see.
Early March is honestly one of my favorite times to shoot up here. Donner Lake in late winter rewards the people who show up for it — and Akshita and Kora showed up. They also brought Jimmy, their one-year-old labradoodle, who had zero interest in being a supporting character.



We started on the western end of the lake at one of my favorite public piers — easy parking off Donner Pass Road, and more importantly, a completely unobstructed backdrop.
Akshita and Kora were easy from the very first frame. The kind of couple who doesn’t need direction so much as permission, permission to just be themselves and forget about the camera for a while. They walked the pier together, Jimmy trotting between them in his striped jacket with the focused energy of a dog who has decided this outing is very important. They sat at the edge with their feet dangling, heads bent together over him, and laughed at something I didn’t catch but didn’t need to. That’s the frame.




From the pier we drove up to the Donner Lake Overlook on Donner Summit Road. I take almost every couple here at some point, and it still stops me every time. The whole valley opens up beneath you — the lake a deep, saturated blue, pine forests running down the ridgelines on both sides, and behind it all, snow-covered peaks going back as far as the eye can reach. In early March, with a full winter behind it, the scale of it is genuinely humbling.
For portraits, this spot gives you something the shoreline can’t: perspective. The couple small against the landscape, the whole world stretching out behind them. Akshita and Kora stood on the granite at the edge of the overlook and leaned into each other, and the lake sat far below them doing exactly what it was supposed to do. Jimmy, per usual, inserted himself between their feet and looked pleased about it. They settled onto the warm stone in the afternoon sun — relaxed, unhurried, holding him between them — and the light did the rest.




On the way back down to the lake, we stopped at Little Truckee Ice Creamery, because of course we did. Ice cream at 4pm in early March in the mountains is a completely reasonable decision and I will defend it. Akshita and Kora grabbed cups and found a table on the patio under the blue canopy, string lights overhead, pines all around, and just… sat. Talked. Laughed. Completely off the clock. Those in-between moments — unhurried, unposed, just two people genuinely at ease with each other — are often the ones that end up meaning the most in a gallery.



We finished at a snowy forested pullout on the eastern shore, where tall pines opened into a wide clearing still deep in late-winter snow. I’d been watching the sun track toward the ridge all afternoon, and I knew what was coming: that narrow window when the light drops low and warm and starts filtering through the trees, bouncing gold off the snow, turning everything soft and alive. You get maybe twenty minutes of it. You have to be in position.
We let Jimmy off leash and he ran straight at me with his ears pinned back and his whole body committed to the bit, and I got the shot. Meanwhile, Akshita and Kora started throwing snowballs at each other across the clearing — laughing, completely unselfconscious, totally in their own world — and I just kept my finger on the shutter. There’s a frame of them tossing a pine branch back and forth while Jimmy dances between them that I keep coming back to. It doesn’t look like a photo shoot. It looks like a Saturday.




The final portraits — the three of them backlit by the sun burning gold through the pines, Jimmy held between them, the snowy forest glowing behind — are the ones that made me exhale when I saw them on the screen. Jimmy turned and looked directly into the lens at exactly the right moment. Some things you plan. Some things you just stay ready for.



If you’re planning a trip to Donner Lake and want to hit the same spots, here’s exactly where we went. The pier and the snowy forest section are both free and easy to access with roadside parking right off Donner Pass Road. The overlook is a quick drive up Donner Summit Road and takes about 4 minutes to get to from your car — it’s one of those stops that costs nothing and pays off completely. And yes, Little Truckee Ice Creamery is absolutely worth building into your day. Their hours vary by season so worth checking before you go.
Late winter and early spring in the Sierra Nevada are genuinely some of the best-kept secrets for couples photography. The snow is deep and pristine, the light is long and golden, and you have locations like Donner Lake almost entirely to yourself. It’s not about braving the cold — a few warm layers and you’re completely comfortable. It’s about showing up somewhere beautiful with your person and letting it be exactly what it is.
If you’re looking for a wedding or couples photographer in the Reno, Sparks, or Lake Tahoe area — or anywhere in the Sierra Nevada — I’d love to connect. You can see more of my work here!
If you value photographs that feel intentional, honest, and deeply personal, I’d love to hear about what you’re planning. I photograph weddings in Reno, Lake Tahoe, and beyond, and also offer portrait and lifestyle sessions.
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