By whatever means they found love behind the lens, these couples can’t imagine another way of life. Whether sharing the morning sunlight at Denali National Park, or chasing elephants in Africa, or even phoning home from the grocery store to describe the sunset, these are couples who have made photography a shared work at the center of their lives.

In doing so, they have forged an incredible union of purpose, while giving new purpose to their union.

"We work out of our house so it makes it hard to stop and vacuum," says Tim.

"Tim will shoot 10 rolls to get one good picture and I will shoot one roll," says Renee. "He’s more energetic and likes more action and excitement while I’m more mellow and peaceful and try to get moody pictures."

Due to their different styles, the two often draw individual assignments that leave one of them behind at their home office. But given the choice, they travel and work as a team. Not only do they like spending lots of time together, they say ttheir work improves by bouncing ideas off one another.

"When we are in a jeep in Africa we are constantly talking to each other," says Renee. That way, they ensure each has gotten all the horizontal, vertical, tight and wide angles needed of a subject.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter who’s suggestion makes the shot, as long as one of them gets the credit, says Tim. "We’re happy that one of us is selling images."

When on assignment, Mary and Terry help one another meter scenes and, she says, trade off doing the "obvious" stock work like scenic overlooks.

When they reach an area to be photographed, they often head down different trails to stay out of each other’s shots. Other than that, the two are together constantly and that’s how they like it.

"I can’t imagine anything different," says Mary, 49. Today, they are so connected with one other that Mary says she even calls Terry from the grocery store. "Our friends thought our marriage would collapse because we were together so much but I think it strengthens us. The business is our baby."

Neither Pat nor Tom were photographers when they met in college. And just a year into their marriage, they separated. But Tom, who graduated with a law degree, negotiated a novel out-of-court settlement. He suggested that instead of getting divorced, they work together. With just $300 saved, they moved to a little log cabin in Yellowstone and began photographing their surroundings. In 1976 they started selling wildlife photos to the local paper for $5 a shot.

"It was very difficult to work together," says Pat. "We weren’t even a good personal team and then we started a business. But it really is the kind of experience that pulls you together. Slowly things became successful for us."

In the early days, she says, they used to play a game called "Dream Me a Dream." The map of their future inevitably lead to National Geographic, though it would be ten years before they won their first assignment with the magazine.

As their daughter grew up and entered school, they were less able to take her on long assignments. Now one parent usually stays behind, working from their Vancouver, Wash., home. Tom travels four to five months a year; Pat is gone two to three months. The remaining slice of the calendar is spent at home or traveling as a family on assignment.

Pat says that when she gets ready for a trip, Tom, who is more detail-oriented, gets her passport and visa ready and prepares a notebook of instructions. At home, she takes care of the marketing and most of the submissions, while his main job is sorting and bar-coding their library of 100,000 slides. With some 1,000-1,500 rolls of film a year, keeping up is an enormous task, one they chip away at when not on the road.

"I cannot imagine being married and not working together," says Pat. "You can share so much more of each other’s lives. It forces you over and over into the other person’s life and it stops you from becoming independent and not needing the other person."

"If I see something, he’ll put my camera on a tripod and he’ll say ‘go, go, go. If he sees something, I’ll pass his camera, lens and tripod and I’ll say, ‘go, go, go.’ She says it doesn’t matter who gets the shot. If there is an opportunity, together we can make it happen."

Karen says it’s her husband, 45, who is the more focused photographer. He was a park ranger for 12 years and worked in many parks throughout the USA with the National Park Service, where he developed an ongoing interest in bears, grand scenery and other wildlife. Karen says she didn’t start shooting until five years into their marriage and while she likes taking photos, she says she is just as content sitting on a knoll with her binoculars without carrying her 40-pound gear bag of camera equipment.

After working out of their home for 10 years, the Wards now have an office in Santa Cruz where they take assignments and store their 250,000 images. They travel together three to six months out of the year and they don’t have children, though they have been together for 17 years and married for 14. Karen says they both come from large families - she seven and him five - and feel that being an aunt and uncle suits them fine. Besides, she says, they are having too much fun to change things.

"It’s terrific," Karen says of their lifestyle. "What could be more fun than working with your best friend?"

Larry has completed three photo books on wildflowers and redwoods and is working on a fourth. A stock agency the two started in the 1980s now represents the works of six other photographers. They have 50,000 transparencies on file of wilderness, wildflowers, Americana and urban scenery from locations all around the world. The Ulrichs hired their first employee in 1986 and now have two full-time employees – a business manager and photo librarian.

One thing that’s remained constant in their quarter century together is their team work when on assignment. It’s a requirement for a couple that in some years have spent 365 straight days with one another.

On the road, Donna has become as adept as a surgeon’s assistant in setting up Larry’s 4x5 shots.

"I’ll find a picture and Donna will start to grab cameras and hand me lenses," says Larry. The two coordinate handling of cameras, lenses and film so fluidly that they hardly need to speak during photo setups. "I also clean the lenses because he drops them," jokes Donna.

There are times when they have to wait hours or even days for a shot because the wind conditions, temperature or lighting isn’t quite right. Donna says she sometimes gets bored, especially if the shot is by the side of the road and she has little to do but hang out in the couple’s camper. Although their success demonstrates that patience can be worth the reward, Donna admits she sometimes will try to convince Larry that the shot isn’t worth the wait. Sometimes, she jokes, she can even make Larry think it was his idea to move on to the next location.