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When the Lake Michigan shoreline builds up with snow and ice it becomes a playground for thrill-seeking photographers. I love seeing and hearing the waves slam themselves into the ice and explode into a furious spray, as though the waves and ice are at war with each other.

A shark in Ludington? This large "fin" protruding from the icy surface of Ludington Municipal Marina immediately takes me back in time to the movie Jaws. F13.0 at 1/400, ISO 100, 80-200 mm lens at 200 mm

It takes a team effort to make some of our strongest images. Our assistant manager, Rachel Gaudette, was the first one on our team to spot this vantage point to photograph Laughing Whitefish Falls. The issue was two large logs stuck at the edge of the steep falls. My dad went into the woods and found a long stick that had a fork on the end of it. I then walked to the slippery edge of the falls and hooked both of the logs with that stick and slid them to the side and out of the photograph. My kneecaps were shaking in my tall rubber boots, but it was totally worth it for this image.

Sumac growing along Pere Marquette Highway reminds me of the flower patterns on some loud Hawaiian shirts. I am attracted to the color but on closer inspection am blown away by the patterns.

Today we got our GoPro waterproof sports action camera in the mail so we had to immediately put it through the paces while downhill skiing at Crystal Mountain Ski Resort. The tiny camera shoots high definition video and beautiful still images. This is a self-portrait I made as I was riding up the chairlift just as the golden sun was setting.

Cotton Candy

The battle between ships and mariners and the elements has intrigued me since I was young boy watching on the Ludington waterfront from my parents’ and grandparents’ automobiles as one or more of the several Ludington carferries still operating at the time fought their way through strong ice or fierce waves en route to and from Wisconsin. I never lost that fascination. When I became a journalist and photojournalist for the Ludington Daily News in 1970, I loved keeping an eye out for photo opportunities involving Lake Michigan boat and ship traffic. The carferries were my favorite muse, not only because I loved watching them but because the big ships were a vital segment of the local economy, and most of our readers had ties to them or at least enjoyed seeing them in action through my newspaper photographs. The big black ships with white trim also lent themselves perfectly to black and white photography, especially during the winter. Of the tens of thousands of carferry images I have made over the years, this one is my favorite black and white carferry photograph. On January 27, 1977, the 35-knot westerly winds of an arctic storm had driven ice shoreward and packed it tight like a giant trash compacter at the Ludington harbor entrance. The powerful, coal-fired steamships with extra-strong hulls for ice breaking could usually bulldoze their way through the ice, but this ice was packed 25-foot deep, leaving the City of Midland (right) nowhere to displace it as the ship attempted to steam that morning to Wisconsin with its load of railroad freight cars. The Midland ground to a halt just outside the harbor entrance. Several hours later, another C&O carferry, Spartan (left) became stuck while attempting to steam out past the Midland and break a path to open water. She ground to a halt just beyond the lighthouse. The ships fought the ice for hours, with assistance from the tugboat Mary Page Hannah. I took a lot of shots (too many, some might say) trying to capture peak moments. As evening approached, the two ships were now facing bow to bow with the lighthouse between them. While the Rule of Thirds is one of the age-old guidelines for composition, I looked at this scene and said to myself, what are the odds of these two great ships being so symmetrically positioned with a lighthouse between them? This was a time to break the rules if I ever saw one. To make the image even more symmetrical and three-dimensional, I backed up my camera position to include more of the two shadowy ice mounds. A lot of perseverance, thought and work went in to making this image. I gave it my best shot and was rewarded with one of my best shots ever. It doesn’t always work out that way, but, even with a good shot in the bank, I have long stood fast at changing scenes waiting for the big money shot.

 

My mental diary of places where I have made, or hope to someday make, a good photograph has long included an entry for the Victory Trinity Lutheran Church in Victory Township, Mason County. In all of the decades I have looked for a picture there during my travels, I have only made two photographs I knew before ever getting the camera and tripod out had all the elements needed for a good picture. This 1980s day was one of those rare times. Sadly, I was heading back toward Ludington on Victory Drive from photographing a horrible fatal car crash on US 31 north of Scottville. As a newspaper reporter and photographer for the Ludington Daily News, covering hard news came with the job, but it was the hardest, most painful part of the job. I was overwhelmed by what I had seen and photographed at that crash site. The last thing on my mind was taking more pictures on this depressing day. But as a visual person, I couldn’t help but see the tremendous clouds overhead blowing toward my favorite country church. As I approached the church, I calculated that I might be able to line the cloud up over the church if I could quickly get to a high spot near a small barn several hundred yards west of the church where the Ruba family had given me permission to go. Thirty seconds later, when I jumped out of my Jeep Cherokee and started running to the peak of a hill overlooking the church and surrounding countryside, I could hardly believe my eyes. I saw a “Jesus Cloud” headed right over the church. I had visions of the Ascension as I worked feverishly to set up the tripod, mount my camera, set the manual exposure and shoot. The incredible view I was privileged to be witnessing and documenting was so uplifting that my spirits were lifted as well. This was a day of extremes in the life of one photojournalist. There were other days with highs and lows but none that stick with me the way this one does.

The State Park Sand Dunes

As I stood in one spot on the edge of Lincoln Lake for over 40 minutes, the sky produced three dramatic color changes. The first display was bright pink with the rising sun. It quickly changed to ruddy-orange and gradually finished with blue-purple. This was my only photograph of that morning that showed the large rays of light shooting toward the heavens.

The base of the Ludington North Breakwater Lighthouse juts seaward like the bow of a ship as the carferry Badger returns to Ludington harbor on a late summer evening.

I have watched this solitary soldier appear to stand guard over the graves of veterans in Lakeview Cemetery, north of Ludington, for years. I find it fascinating to see the scenes change around the stone soldier as the seasons come and go.

I have always been fascinated by pointillism and how colors can be blended to make something larger and more fantastic. While photographing the rocks in front of Big Point Sable Lighthouse at Ludington State Park, I was impressed by the small "points" of color on the water, rocks, and ice and how the colors blended to create a wonderful image.

Ethan Arthur Reed, otherwise known as "The Chief," always lights up a room with his infectious smile. I know I am partial because he is my son, but he is one cute kid. Now we just have to get him to sleep for more than two hours at a time! F8.0 at 1/40, ISO 1000, 18-50 mm lens at 50 mm

In the last few years, my dad and I have been very fortunate to spend a lot of time exploring Michigan's Upper Peninsula with our cameras. Besides shooting the Lake Superior shoreline, we love exploring waterfalls we have never been to. This morning we have made the short hike to Laughing Whitefish Falls for the first time. This might be my new favorite waterfall in Michigan.

Sumac looks like it is on fire as it "dances" in the breeze on an October day. When we head out fall color touring in Michigan, we are usually anticipating the color show provided by the maple leaves turning color. Sumac puts on its own show.

Red-bellied Woodpeckers are beautiful birds. This one came for a mid-morning snack at my Papa Bill and Nana Bev's bird feeder while keeping a keen eye out for the fat barn cat that frequents the neighborhood.

365 Week 13

Epworth Dining Room