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A compelling aspect of visual art is that different people may look at the same image and see different things. While I was composing this photograph, I noticed that the rocks, seaweed, and water resembled the face of an old man. I named this photograph with the hope that my viewers would enjoy the same illusion.

I was feeling down and out from a nasty chest cold earlier today so decided to drive by the house I grew up in on the corner of Pere Marquette and Ferry in Ludington. Driving by this house, especially in the winter, always makes me feel better. F22.0 at 1/15, ISO 100, 18-50 mm lens at 18 mm

I have long admired and photographed this neatly-kept farm at the top of a high hill along US31 north of Manistee. On this late November morning, after a fresh snowfall, Olsen Hill Farm looks especially inviting. I spend a few minutes finding today's best vantage point. Now it looks and feels right to me. Click.

The howling winds off Lake Michigan and the bitter cold temperatures have turned the peaks of the Silver Lake Sand Dunes into a cavernous landscape. I lay on my stomach and got very close to a sculpted sand cave in order to lose the size perspective.

Only a few times in more than 50 years of photographing the natural beauty of Michigan have I felt so humbled, so awe-struck, by a scene before me than I did while making this image. Witnessing the Northern Lights above Lake Michigan the evening of December 14, 2006, was truly a religious experience. Green lights danced through the northern sky above me, and waves broke over the Ludington South Breakwater ahead of me as I tried to hike my way to the end of the pier without getting washed off. I was able to safely get no further than the bend in the pier. It was so windy I dared not extend the legs of my tripod. Instead I knelt down, mounted my camera on the low, sturdy tripod and began shooting. I was as pumped as a hunter with a 10-point buck standing in front of him. But the best was yet to come. About 20 minutes later, at 8:35 p.m., neon-red Northern Lights appeared and began rocketing up and down in the western sky. For fewer than two minutes, the sky was glorious and up to four times brighter than before and afterward. My camera recorded the peak of the color and brightness during this 30-second time exposure. The exposure also recorded a meteor (upper right) streaking through the sky. Technically, this image is not all it could be. I had made the switch from film to digital cameras only a couple years before this rare photo opportunity presented itself. Like many other longtime professional photographers, it would take time to master exposure with this new digital technology. Even though the image looked excellent on the electronic playback on back of the camera, it was underexposed by more than a stop. Since then, I have learned to better understand and rely on the camera’s histogram, which is a true output measure of exposure. In addition, the sensors on digital cameras have vastly improved, and newer models tend to render high quality images at higher ISOs than in the past. Even with the most modern digital photography marvels, one thing I know from experience: nothing is more important in photography than the proper exposure. Still, I am grateful to have made this less than perfect image of the most intense, colorful Northern Lights I have ever witnessed.

I had never traveled to the Presque Isle River through the south entrance of the Porcupine Mountains. Due to the time of year, we had to park a long way away. As Brad and I hiked in, we were slightly jealous of the many snowmobiles that we saw. The exhaustion was worth it. The view was priceless.

In 1994, my dad made one of his best-selling photographs of all time. "Storm Light" shows Little Point Sable Lighthouse bathed in the dramatic light of an October storm. Since that time, my dad and I have been working to make a photograph of Big Point Sable Lighthouse with the same quality of light. On the afternoon of November 5, 2007, radiant storm light appeared in front of my camera for less than three seconds as I stood on the blustery shores of Lake Michigan.

Birds of a feather try to stay warm on a wire together along Iris Road. They remind me of tightrope walkers maintaining balance as their wire perch sways erratically with gusts of ice-cold wind. F2.8 at 1/800, ISO 400, 300 mm lens at 300 mm

I love black and white photography. Today's bright overcast light, along with the varying tones of the sand, ice, and snow make for stunning images. I love how this sand formation looks like it could be part of the Grand Canyon.

The planets Venus (brightest) and Jupiter pop out of a star-filled sky along with Little Sable Point Lighthouse. It is near the end of the twilight "blue hour" artists have long loved to paint and photograph. Tonight, with Venus and Jupiter so rarely close together, I am especially excited to photograph a blue sky. F2.8 at 58 seconds, ISO 1600, 14-24mm lens at 20mm

The Big Finish

365 Week

It is a surprisingly long drive from the Porcupine Mountains all the way across Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to Upper Tahquamenon Falls, but so worth the effort. We had beautiful light and atmosphere this morning to explore this stunningly beautiful Michigan treasure.

The White River Light Station near Whitehall, Michigan is a beautiful lighthouse. It also has a very informative museum inside.

I have always enjoyed taking photographs that may not feature identifiable subjects but show the beautiful colors and patterns that light creates on water. This photograph was taken on the Lake Michigan shoreline at sunset and is one of my favorites.

I have tried for over six years to make a photograph that I was pleased with at this spot on North Lakeshore Drive along the shores of Hamlin Lake. Finally, today my wait is over. The real secret to the success of this photo is the immediacy of the snow and bushes in the foreground and the clouds in the distance. F8.0 at 1/200, ISO 100, 18-50 mm lens at 18 mm

Just in four days the 365 Project has already been forcing me to get out of my comfort zone and try to explore and photograph some new locations. Standing on the old train depot in Ludington, I could imagine my great-great-grandparents and other relatives working on the railroad here almost 100 years ago. F22.0 at 0.3, ISO 100, 18-50 mm lens at 18 mm

If you look closely at this image, you can see a large splash of water between me and the fog building at Point Betsie Lighthouse. The ice-filled wave hit the sea wall first and then went airborne, drenching me, my camera, and everything else in its path.

I have always been drawn to the color blue, especially when it is mixed with shades of green. The tropical looking waters of Lake Michigan and the golden dune grass blended together perfectly through my large telephoto lens in order to create the warm, calm feeling I was looking for.

Lake Michigan waves splashing up on the erector­ set – looking framework of the foundation for the elevated foghorn building created this icy artwork at Big Sable Point Lighthouse on April 15, 2020. The rest of the story is the fall I took on the undetectable ice covering the sand en route to make the shot.