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Hallelujah Moment

Patient and Kind by Rachel Gaudette We are so blessed to live near the Ludington State Park, which includes 7 miles of sandy Lake Michigan shoreline. The shoreline allows endless possibilities as each day brings a new scene to capture. Clouds flooded the sky, creating breathtaking reflections as the sun set below the horizon.

Tahquamenon Falls was surprisingly busy this winter day as many others enjoyed the magical light along with us. The contrast of dark water before it tumbled over the crest and showed its true tannins caught my attention. I set up in the farthest corner of the viewing platform and worked hard to include each ripple and movement that I wanted.

Ludington's Queen of the Great Lakes

The setting sun shining on dune grass and lighting up the shoreline is one of my favorite things to witness. I made this image at the north end of Stearns Park tonight. This is one of the best images I have made so far in 2020.

A half an hour before sunset, Brad and I realized that there was a high chance of a fantastic sunset out of the snowy, gray sky. We each drove towards the lakeshore, shooting in different spots. As the sun dipped below the cloud barrier, the most remarkable particle ray appeared, and the sky lit up with the most brilliant sunset I have ever seen. What a great reminder that beauty will come after gray days.

Dream Voyage

This is one of my top three favorite photographs I have ever made. It seems to create a powerful emotional response when people view it for the first time. I think people relate the human struggle to the lone horse trudging through the deep snow in a blizzard. The legal name of the horse was Ultra Vanity Fair. A few years after making this image, she passed away. I am glad the she will live on forever in this piece of art.

This morning I went flying with Ryan Johnson from Mason County Aviation. We left Ludington and immediately flew north towards the tip of the Leelanau Peninsula. To get the photographs that I had previsualized, Ryan estimated that we needed an altitude of at least 11,500 feet. From that height, I opened the window of the small plane and stuck my head and camera out into the cold, thin air. It was an awesome adrenaline rush. I made this photograph of Big Sable Point and Hamlin Lake upon our return to Ludington. F8 at 1/250, ISO 100, 18-50mm lens at 18mm

After getting several notices on our phones the last few days that the Northern Lights might be out on Sunday night and early Monday morning, my dad picked me up from my new house in Ludington around 9pm. We drove to Point Betsie Lighthouse just north of Frankfort, Michigan. Shortly after getting on location and figuring out where we wanted to shoot, my dad and I noticed a large white pillar of light appearing to the left of the lighthouse. A few moments later, the colors of the Northern Lights appeared. Luckily, my camera was taking an almost three-minute exposure during this time. By the end of the long exposure, the pillars were gone and the colors faded quickly. My dad and I stayed until 2am hoping they would come back. Once the clouds rolled in, we headed home with giant smiles on our faces because we were pretty sure we each got at least one nice photograph!

My grandpa, Bud Reed, would have turned 93 today. Earlier today we dedicated a sculpture in his honor in the new Veteran's Mall in Stearns Beach in downtown Ludington. I felt my grandpa's presence on the Lake Michigan shoreline as I was making this image. I love this photograph and believe it is one of the best I have ever captured.

I thought I was going to have a heart attack and die halfway through a five-block sprint from my Ludington waterfront home on a circle tour to my truck to get my camera and then around Harbor View Marina to get to the spot where I visualized I needed to be to photograph one of the most vivid rainbows I had ever seen. While bent over, hyperventilating, trying to catch my breath, it occurred to me that, yes, I might have a heart attack and die if I didn’t quit running, but I definitely was going to die if I didn’t get this shot. In my mind and heart, this was an image worth dying for. I hadn’t run this hard since retiring from the Coast Guard 11 years earlier, but I needed to save myself from disappointment, so onward I ran. I was so busy running, it wasn’t until I reached my pre-selected spot on the west side of the Ludington Waterfront Sculpture Park that I looked toward the rainbow and witnessed a sight far more incredible than I could ever have imagined a few minutes earlier from the third-story deck of our condominium. The double rainbow was even more vivid now and perfectly positioned from this vantage point. The marina and boats provided the attractive foreground I had envisioned from home without being there. For a few moments, I was so focused on the double rainbow, I didn’t even see the reflection of the main rainbow in the water. When I did, I ran closer to the water’s edge so I could include the entire rainbow reflection in my image. This was the first and only time in my life I had ever seen a rainbow and its reflection make a complete circle. I quickly made an image, thinking the rainbow would fade away any second. Then I took a deep breath and concentrated on really seeing and evaluating every aspect of the image I had built. I moved my camera position less than a foot in micro-composing the image to better align the foreground, middle-ground and background layers. A couple thumb clicks of my cable release later, and I was done. I could breathe easy now and savor for a few more minutes this exceptionally brilliant rainbow I and countless others were blessed to see on July 10, 2016

Emerging from the White Birch Forest in Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore after searching for images of the birch trees and maple leaves in autumn color, I was about to put my camera equipment back in my trusty Suburban when I took in this view less than 50 yards away. It looked and felt like a melody of color, pattern, and texture.

Totality

In the workshops my dad and I lead, we tell our students not to be afraid of turning their cameras vertically. Some of our favorite photographs we have ever made are vertical images. On this day I took a horizontal photograph and a vertical photograph about 10 seconds apart. The composition in the vertical photograph was the definite winner.

I walked out the Ludington North Breakwater to photograph the northern lights in the middle of the night. The lights we barely visible, but the Milky Way was incredible. You could also see the lights of Wisconsin. It was a beautifully calm night on Lake Michigan.

 Although, over the last few years I’ve made many images that I’m extremely proud of, one photo that I still had not captured was a great image of the Ludington North Breakwater Light. I’ve made images of the lighthouse, just none that I was in love with. I had the chance to stay in town to shoot the sunset on May 21st, and I was crossing my fingers that the rain would stop, and the clouds would break just enough for the sun to shine through. It could have gone either way, but I was ready and waiting. I chose a telephoto lens, so that I could focus on just the lighthouse and the setting sun. Thankfully for me, the sunset turned out to be gorgeous! I could see others taking a nightly run to the lighthouse, or taking in the sunset with family or friends. It was just me, my camera, and the setting sun enjoying that special night on the south side of the beach, listening to Lake Michigan tell her summer secrets.

As I often am, I was in the water during this sunset at Stearns Beach. I had my camera as low as I could without it being covered in water. I adjusted my shutter speed to allow for a capture of a crashing wave just ahead of my lens. This is one of my favorite images I have made so far during our 366 Project.

As I hustled to find a vantage point to capture this image, I was struck with an overwhelming sense of calmness. I realized that I was one of only a handful of people at that moment lucky enough to witness the perfect blending of a human creation and God's creation. This was a defining moment in my life when I knew I had found my calling as a photographer.