Ludington Point to Point

The morning after the biggest snowfall of the winter, my son Brad and I were out early looking for pictures. The wind usually whisks most of the snow off the trees before 10:00AM. After 20 miles of looking without any satisfying shooting, we found our shot. An abandoned farm home between Custer and Fountain on Custer Road I had photographed in other seasons looked its best painted in snow.

A faithful horse pulls a buggy load of Amish children through a heavy snowfall to get them to their school in Riverton Township, south of Scottville. The Amish have built sheds at the school to protect the horses while they wait for students to get out of classes.

For more than a quarter century, I have watched a once impressive farm north of Custer fading away. The painstakingly trimmed house where a proud family once lived was among the first buildings ravaged by the elements, vandals, and scavengers. The house has collapsed since I recorded this scene. Despite the decay of the old farm, I still find it sadly beautiful and continue to watch and record its slow death.

Perhaps erected in a vain attempt to keep sand from blowing toward a nearby summer cottage, fencing looked more like a snow sculpture on a January morning at Epworth Heights resort.

A lone tree in a farm field stands out in any season, but especially during the heart of winter. Fields with lone trees are common throughout the Point to Point area. Besides adding beauty, many of them have provided shade for up to a century or more of both farmers and farm animals.

Sometimes the simplicity and contrast that winter brings to a particular scene turns it into a picture. That was how I felt when I saw this picture on the Lincoln River east of Jebavy Drive. I travel past this scene almost daily, but this was the first time I visualized it as a good picture. Timing is everything!

Even a winter hater would love this day. Snow clung to everything and turned Sauble River at Ludington State Park into a winter paradise.

I came upon this scene while hiking along the Coast Guard Trail near Hamlin Lake. Staying as quiet as possible, not to appear threatening to the fearless hawk, I slowly set up my camera and tripod. The hawk accepted my presence and began the grisly process of eating its prey. The fur from the squirrel's beautiful tail fluttered in the wind. As is often nature’s way, the scene was a visual and emotional paradox; so deadly, yet so beautiful. I went away saddened but exhilarated, focusing on the beauty and knowledge that what I had just witnessed was natural and necessary.

Nature, in transition between fall and winter, presented a rare double feature on a mid-October day near Hamlin Lake. The earliest snows of the season often cling to the trees the best and hang on long enough to still look pretty when I discover them.

Searching for an autumn sunrise on Emerson Lake, in Eastern Mason County. I spotted mist rising through the trees on the opposite side of U.S. 10. Walking about 20 yards into the woods I came upon a lake. According to Stanley Gerybo, owner of the adjacent Fox Lake Resort, the tiny lke is Fox Lake. He and his wife, Justine, have owned it for 33 years. Fox Lake typifies the myriad of sumptuous places, between Big and Little Sable Points, that most people never see. These spots are special to those who own them, or those privileged to see them.

A tree along the nature trail at West Shore Community College stood out from the others because of the artful pattern of fungus on it.

A leaf shaped like a Gingerbread Man jumped out at me as I was photographing frost-covered leaves between Ludington and Scottville.

A November gale shook my Jeep, as if one of those coin-operated kiddy rides, when I pulled into the Ludington beach. I knew I was looking at a great picture; making it would be the challenge. A bean bag on the roof of my rocking vehicle was out of the question. The 35-millimeter camera and telephoto lens shook like Jell-O on my heavy tripod. Searching for a solution, I spotted a sturdy lifeguard tower. I climbed it, lay on the floor with the camera and lens braced in the top of my soft camera bag, and shot away.

With a good perch and a good view, a heron fishes on a pond near Lincoln Lake.

Unreal? When the sky over Lake Michigan looks this vivid, even people viewing it sometimes cannot believe their eyes. I am a believer. I did not use special filters to record this view of Ludington lighthouse, or any other image in this book.

Trying to find a good vantage point to make a picture featuring a horse, fall color, and an old barn; I could not find a way to balance the composition or remove clutter. As I was walking away, milkweed stole my attention from the pastoral scene. I learned a long time ago to be alert for pictures other than the ones you anticipate taking.

Few creatures in nature stand out like mute swans. This proud bird was finding winter refuge in some open water on the Pere Marquette River. Mute swans have become a common sight in northern Michigan but one that continues to rivet my attention.

I was walking through a field south of Ludington en route to a blind to try to photograph some deer when it struck me that I was already in the presence of a good picture. I hunted for a few minutes for the best vantage point, set up the tripod, and shot.

Sunrise on the Pere Marquette River—designated by Congress a National Wild and Scenic River—revealed a scene to match the designation. The affectionate sand hill cranes did not appear to notice my presence. I remained as motionless as possible while frequently shooting as their positions and the light constantly changed.

While photographing maple trees that created a fall color canopy over Conrad Road, I looked closer. Across a farm field, the color and light made parts of a back-lit tree stand out against the shady woods.