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Little Sable Lighthouse

In our 20-20 Vision course, my son Brad and I teach our photography students 20 concepts we use in building strong images. We like to think of these concepts as 20 distinctly different arrows in our photography quiver that we can draw from. This is the best image I have ever made of Little Sable Point Lighthouse, not only because I used a lot of image-building arrows, but because each of them was right on target maximizing the visual impact of the photograph. The dramatic clouds in the mid-October sky enabled me to use one of my favorite arrows: “Clouds are your friends.” Not only were there great clouds, but at the moment of exposure, the clouds were wonderfully positioned in relationship to the lighthouse. This was the fifth consecutive morning I had made the 60-mile round trip to Little Sable Point. I determined the ideal spot to place my tripod on the first day. My goal was to create a three-layer “Grand Scenic” layer cake, marrying foreground, middle-ground and background elements together in a beautiful union. A triangular mound of dune grass provided the perfect foreground and base in which to place my camera. This foreground layer was the most essential layer to make viewers of my finished photograph feel as though they were actually standing there with me. Brad and I strive to make photographs that transcend from pictures to experiences. We want viewers to step right into the scene. I designed and built a strong image that first morning. All the compositional elements were in place. All that was needed now was God’s “magic light” to finish the image. Four mornings in a row I watched and waited. On the fifth morning the light was sharp, the westerly wind was building up some great waves into repetitive patterns, and the clouds looked especially stunning and powerful. After 100 cold minutes, a bright beam of light appeared headed my way like a giant search light. As the light hit the lighthouse, I began shooting. A few seconds later the light also lit the dune grass in front of my camera and tripod. For about five seconds in five days, one of the most glorious shoreline scenes I have ever witnessed lay before me. Then the magic light moved on, and the scene became so much less moving. I and other photographers have made subsequent photographs from almost exactly the same spot. I don’t think Mother Nature will ever duplicate this day. I thank God I realized the need to persevere and be there at this amazing moment.

Bass Lake mirrors its famous landmarks, the Three Sisters hills that separate this lake from Lake Michigan north of Pentwater. A pontoon boat lies motionless at its offshore mooring.

Photographers should pay farmers to grow sunflowers! When I think of million dollar view, I think of a field of sunflowers in the country as with this scene found along Beyer Road in northern Mason County. I pray the farmers who grow them make a handsome profit to continue to plant them.

We headed up to Crystal Mountain early this morning to be judges for the photo contest during the Teddy Knape Film Festival. I was dying to shoot some actions photos with our brand new 600 mm Nikon F4 lens. As my dad tore down the fall line on Loki, I tried to capture the intensity on his face. F5.6 at 1/5000, ISO 1000, 600 mm lens with 1.4 extender at 850 mm

Lake Michigan is roiling at Pentwater this afternoon. Waves driven by 50-knot winds slam into the Pentwater South Pierhead Light and at this moment "storm light" works its magic. F5.0 at 1/1600, ISO 200, 80-200 mm lens at 105 mm

First Street Beach in Manistee is always a great place to photograph a beautiful Lake Michigan sunset. After a long, hard day of shooting, it warmed my soul to see the sun pop through the clouds just before sunset.

Today my dad helped me make this image with our underwater housing at Little Sable Point Lighthouse. These were the biggest waves I have ever taken our housing out in. I wore a survival suit and had a rope connecting me to my dad. He stood on shore and was my anchor. We had magic light on and off all day long. When I made this image, it was lightly raining, but the sun was shining brightly. It was worth being knocked over, face planting in the water, and eating a lot of sand to make this image!

This has been a great week for extraordinary light and clouds over Lake Michigan. On Monday night after work, we headed to First Curve at the Ludington State Park to shoot the sunset. The light just kept getting better and more beautiful. It was a wonderful evening to be making art!

I have photographed fall color along M22 all day and now, during a diversion from the long ride home, Mother Nature has presented me with an entirely different color show. This sunset afterglow just keeps growing more vivid by the minute. I love how unreal reality can be on the Lake Michigan shoreline!

One of the iron stanchions supporting the elevated catwalk leading to and from Manistee Lighthouse provides the perspective as I photograph the Great Lakes freighter Calumet. Coast Guard Station Manistee lies beyond the pier, its crew "Always Ready" to aid mariners in distress.

I visualized how the Charlevoix Lighthouse might look three hours and 150 miles before I got there. The fresh coat of ice on the Charlevoix pier from yesterday's north wind and waves looks even better than I envisioned. I am loving being right here, right now in Northern Michigan.

I photographed the USCGC Hollyhock in 2010 for the 365 Project while she was in Ludington for a few days. Today, my dad and I trailered our 13-foot Boston Whaler Super Sport down to Grand Haven, Michigan to photograph the Coast Guard festival for "Tuesdays with Todd and Brad Reed: A Michigan Tribute." Upon arrival in Grand Haven, we were excited to see the 225-foot Hollyhock was in port and open for tours. F8 at 1/1600, ISO 400, 10-17mm lens at 10mm

Weekend Workshop

Sahara Sands

Lilacs at Point Betsie

Benzie Dam

Majestic Michigan Sunrise

Bond Falls will always be one of my favorite places to visit. Even though I cannot travel here as often as I would like, each time feels like home. It was so icy that it was nearly impossible to climb the steps to the upper part of the falls, but I crawled up, lay on my stomach, and set my tripod in place to create a long, dreamy exposure. The water was roaring, and my heart was happy.