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My Dad was usually the one taking photographs. He wasn't as comfortable in front of a camera as behind it. Often, he looked preoccupied in snapshots. Perhaps he wasn't really preoccupied; he instead may have been mentally "supervising" the picture taker's actions.

Here is an image of Dad when he truly appeared relaxed:

Lac du Flambeau, Wisconsin, July 1962. Dad may look content because he is on vacation. He's let his beard grow for a few days. He's wearing his familiar, gray London Fog windbreaker. I sometimes still put it on when I head out for a walk.