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Big Sable Lighthouse looks its 140th birthday party best during an anniversary celebration held by the light's amazing crew of volunteer caretakers. The Sable Point Lighthouse Keepers work tirelessly year after year to maintain and restore the lighthouse and attached keepers' quarters. Thousands of visitors each year get to enjoy the fruits of the keepers' labors.

Winter arrived in Ludington today while we were gone. This is my view of the Lake Michigan shoreline at Stearns Park upon my return. After donning a lot of foul weather gear, I venture into the blizzard-like conditions to make this shot. This weather is beyond exhilarating.

Lake Superior Storm

Wednesday (3585)

The sand hitting my face feels like shards of glass as I make my way to the water's edge at Stearns Park to photograph the Ludington North Breakwater Light. The winds over Lake Michigan at times exceed 60 miles per hour. Magic light, white clouds and dark blue sky behind are my backdrop. Now I just need a huge wave. Bingo! F5.6 at 1/1250, ISO 100, 300 mm lens at 300 mm

Frankfort Lighthouse

The day was November 10, 1975. It was—and still is—the roughest I have seen Lake Michigan. I was amazed by the 20- to 30-foot waves slamming into the Ludington lighthouse. The roiling sea engulfed the breakwater. Hurricane-force winds made it nearly impossible to stand up. I braced myself against a tree and held the camera as still as I could. Sand blasted me and my Nikon camera. Of course, I could not know that within a few hours, the Great Lakes freighter Edmund Fitzgerald would succumb on Lake Superior to what meteorologists would later describe as the “Perfect Great Lakes Storm.” What I did know without a doubt was this was the fiercest storm to hit the Ludington area shoreline since the Armistice Day Storm of 1940. I knew this storm was more than a match for even the mighty self-righting 44-foot Coast Guard motor lifeboat at Coast Guard Station Ludington. Thank God my shipmates there didn’t have to try to go out that day. The barometer dropped to the second-lowest level ever recorded in Ludington. Even the waves inside the Ludington pierheads appeared mountainous. The breakwater leading to the lighthouse was not even visible because the waves rolling over it were so large and storm surge so great. The waves were so big inside the harbor it was impossible to discern where the submerged breakwater was. This was a day for the history books. It was not the only big story I covered that day as a reporter and photographer for the Ludington Daily News. I had been sent earlier that day to a farm an hour away near Chase, Michigan, where a group of farmers herded their dairy cattle into a massive pit excavated in the middle of a farm field. The farmers surrounded the pit and shot and killed dozens of the cattle to draw national attention to the fact that their cattle and some farm family members were being poisoned by PBB that had been accidentally mixed into cattle feed they had purchased. The slaughter was a gruesome undertaking, carried out in pouring rain. I drove soaking wet back to Ludington. Upon reaching downtown Ludington, just before turning off Ludington Avenue onto Rath Avenue, where the newspaper was located, I could see the mountainous waves on Lake Michigan a half mile west of my location. I didn’t make the turn. Instead I drove straight to the west end of Ludington Avenue, jumped out of my Ford Bronco and began photographing the greatest Great Lakes storm I had ever witnessed. After a half-hour or so, I was too numb to shoot anymore. Incredibly, when I crawled back in my vehicle, I realized the hurricane force wind had blown all my wet clothing dry. I headed straight to the Daily News because I couldn’t wait to develop the 400 ASA Kodak Tri-X black and white film containing my storm shots. I was not anxious to see the cow-killing shots. Give me a great storm to photograph any day!

During one of our weekday photography workshops, my dad and the rest of our students rushed to the North Breakwater Light in order to photograph the Badger leaving the harbor. I stayed further back and tried to frame the entire ship along with the lighthouse and its reflection in one photograph. It wasn

365 Week 28

I have photographed dozens of storms with waves as big as or bigger than those I shot during this February 1995 storm, but this image remains one of my favorite storm images because of the wave’s shape, position in relationship to the Ludington lighthouse, position of the seagulls and drama created by the storm light. I consider this image “perfectly poetic.” As my Grandma Reed liked to say about her small but precisely designed and tastefully decorated home: “There is a place for everything, and everything in its place.” I made dozens of exposures on Fuji Velvia film this day, none so perfectly poetic as this one. My youngest son, Willie, and I watched this February storm for hours, capturing photographic moments during lulls in the blizzard. As sunset neared, I prayed for storm light. If this magic light arrived, it would appear shortly before sunset, and only if the sun could find its way through, or beneath, a band of boiling clouds skirting the distant horizon. It is a photographer’s game of hide-and-seek I have played with the sun and clouds thousands of times. I love winning, but experience has taught me that I am more likely to lose or at least not win big. This time, as I had envisioned, sunlight broke from beneath the clouds, backlighting the waves and the lighthouse. Rewarded by the knowledge of what could happen and by perseverance, Willie and I were oblivious to the gale winds pummeling us as we witnessed the magic light and lake’s fury come together against the storm cloud backdrop.

Break Time

Big Waves on Lake Superior

A great challenge for my dad and me is to find new and creative ways to photograph the same subject. Fortunately, the ever-changing skies of the Lake Michigan shoreline work in our favor. On this morning, I had just captured the Little Sable Christmas Eve image and I was determined to find another beautiful photograph of the lighthouse. With the snow no longer falling, I waited for a fleeting moment of sunshine to illuminate the lighthouse against a stormy sky.

Little things can make or break an image. Straight horizontal lines in a photograph can be extremely destructive to the flow of a composition. This photograph would not work if it were not for the three diagonal lines in the sky. The diagonal lines get the viewer's eyes moving around the photograph and lead one's attention to the lighthouse.

Little things can make or break an image. Straight horizontal lines in a photograph can be extremely destructive to the flow of a composition. This photograph would not work if it were not for the three diagonal lines in the sky. The diagonal lines get the viewer's eyes moving around the photograph and lead one's attention to the lighthouse. D7000, F22 at 1/30, 100 ISO, 70-200mm lens at 185mm

First Sailing of Badger Maiden Voyage

Like a picture out of its past, Big Point Sable Lighthouse keepers' quarters glow with lights, as they did when operated by the Coast Guard until the 1970s. Volunteers now occupy the dwelling, conducting tours and working on maintenance and restoration. Another time exposure of Big Sable Light at night was part of the first photo story I ever shot, for a photography class in college in 1969.

After being seconds too late to photograph the magic light at sunrise this morning and also missing great light hitting the Ludington North Breakwater Light with a giant rainbow, I finally got my prize at Big Sable Point Lighthouse this afternoon. Lake Michigan in October is cold, but worth it for the composition I wanted. F14.0 at 1/100, ISO 100, 18-50 mm lens at 22mm