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Rays of light break through bands of altocumulus clouds. Brad and I teach our photography workshop students: "Clouds are your friends." I am thinking of these clouds as best friends as I stand on the Ludington beach on a late March evening. F7.1 at 1/640, ISO 100, 14-24mm lens at 24mm

Ludington State Park

I hunt. I hunt deer. I hunt them with rifle, bow or camera. I am proud to be each kind of deer hunter. My love affair with deer hunting began when I was a child watching my parents getting geared up to go deer hunting, then anxiously waiting for them to get back home, hopefully with a buck. I loved hearing the stories of the hunts. I couldn’t wait to turn 14, the minimum legal age for deer hunting when I was a boy. The various youth hunts of recent years did not exist then, but when I was 12, my parents started to allow me to come along on their hunting expeditions in the sand dune area of what is now the Nordhouse Dunes Federal Wilderness. My family hunted from dawn to dark. Most of our time was spent sitting alone in fox holes with small charcoal fires in five-pound coffee cans to keep us from freezing to death. It was a great training ground for outdoor photography, which in my early years of hunting I had no idea I would become interested in someday. In between the fleeting moments of adrenaline rush upon spotting a deer and perhaps attempting to bag it, I spent untold hours perched high atop a sand dune taking in and learning to know and appreciate the spectacular dune landscape surrounding me for as far as the eye could see. The deer hunting quest, the incredible view, and even the fresh air ramming into my lungs made me feel most alive. Some of the greatest adrenaline rushes of my life have continued to involve stalking deer with rifle, bow or camera. But my greatest joy in hunting has derived from simply being in the outdoors, studying the landscape, learning to better see and appreciate its beauty, learning to be prepared, comfortable and at home there, having Mother Nature remind me time after time that this is where I belonged and still belong. In recent years, I have enjoyed spending a lot of time in hunting blinds with my camera. For the past several years, Brad and I have been blessed to have a wonderful business/friendship relationship with Legends Ranch near Bitely, Michigan, one of the finest whitetail deer hunting ranches in North America. Manager Robert Sergi and his highly skilled staff have treated us like family, giving us widespread access to their more than 2,000 acres of hunting land. My son Brad and I knew exactly which blind we wanted to be in on this Christmas card morning in 2016. The pine background of Strip Blind provided a beautiful, contrasting background for the falling snow. If a deer came out close enough, it would be framed against the contrasting snow on the ground. We saw several bucks that morning, a couple of them with much larger racks. Brad was photographing a massive buck to our right when I spotted a buck with a smaller but picture-perfect rack coming out from our left only 30 yards away. The shot I had been making in my mind for many years was materializing. Perhaps scenting us or hearing Brad’s shutter fire as he photographed the other buck, the wary buck stopped, looking in our direction. I fired. My “Legendary” experience making the wintertime deer photograph of my dreams was made. The buck walked on.

The jetties at Ludington State Park are always fun to photograph, especially when the waters of Lake Michigan are rough. Today the sun broke through the clouds for a few fleeting minutes and I had just enough time to get into position to make this photograph. F9.0 at 1/160, ISO 100, 18-50 mm lens at 18 mm

I cannot imagine a more beautiful location across America for a summer concert than Ludington's Waterfront Park. On this July evening the park is filled with West Shore Bank Rhythm & Dunes concert goers as the Lake Michigan Carferry Badger steams past on one of its daily Lake Michigan crossings to Manitowoc, Wisconsin. The Rhythm & Dunes concerts are one of the highlight events of summer in Ludington.

This view of Tawas Bay, Tawas Point, and Lake Huron greets me after climbing 70 feet up the circular stairway leading to the lantern room of Tawas Point Lighthouse. The fourth-order Fresnel lens continues to shine brightly at night, warning ships of the danger posed by Tawas Point.

Wearing a backpack full of camera equipment, my son Brad reminds me of a Storm Trooper from a Star Wars movie as he photographs a storm front approaching the Ludington shoreline. F8 at 1/400, ISO 400, 14-24mm lens at 14mm

Out of Nowhere

Todd Reed

Wednesday Carferry in Fog

Some of my favorite pictures are the ones I did not plan to take. After making some images along with my West Shore Community College students of Roger and Marcia Hansen's beautifully restored barn at Cherry Hill Farm, several of us are drawn to an open-sided pole barn where hay is stored. I like how the bales look like Nabisco Shredded Wheat. F5.0 at 1/40, ISO 100, 12-24 mm lens at 17 mm

I am struck by the shapes and forms carved by the waters of Porter Creek as it winds its way from the Nordhouse Dunes Federal Wilderness into Lake Michigan. I know converting this image to black-and-white will help me emphasize the constantly evolving shapes, forms, and patterns of this wild place.

Bands of altocumulus clouds remind me of a giant striped beach umbrella as they form a canopy over the Ludington beach on a spring evening. F5.6 at 1/640, ISO 100, 14-24mm lens at 14mm

Lake Superior Storm Black and White

Swans at Epworth

When I was growing up, my mom's mother, Linda Scott, had a home on Thunder Lake in eastern Mason County. There was a bog across the road from her house that my brother and I called "Sponge Lake." Tonight while driving to Blue Lake to visit Betsy's uncle, Dave Verduin, I found some cattails in bloom with Sponge Lake in the background. F2.8 at 1/1000, ISO 100, 18-50 mm lens at 50 mm

Ludington is famous for its sunsets, having been rated by numerous magazines and newspapers as one of the best places in Michigan and the Midwest to view a sunset. Sunsets like this one from Crosswinds at the Ludington harbor entrance are all the ammunition this lifelong Ludington resident needs to support the argument that my hometown is a most magical place to watch the sun appear to sink out of sight into Lake Michigan.

I wish everyone could experience the rush my dad and I feel when we are photographing an approaching Lake Michigan storm front. The power, drama, and beauty that is created when the sun is shining and a storm is approaching from the west is what I dream about photographing all year long. F9 at 1/160, ISO 100, 18-50mm lens at 18mm

Lake Superior Storm

Pumpkins at Monton Farm