The first time a leopard walks past your gypsy in Jhalana, the surprise isn't the cat. It's what's behind it. A ridge of dry Aravalli scrub, a fort wall, and past that, faintly, the sound of Jaipur going about its morning. This is a full leopard population living inside a working city, and the cats are so used to the vehicles that they hunt, climb and raise cubs in plain daylight.
That access is the whole opportunity, and most photographers waste it. When sightings come this easily, the temptation is to fill cards with the same tight portrait, drive after drive. This workshop is built around the opposite habit: five drives with real laptop time in between, so by the second evening you're not asking where the leopard is, you're asking what the frame is. Portrait or environment. Cat large, or cat small against the city it somehow shares.
Four days, two reserves, one predator. Learned properly.
