Spring
Brad Reed's Day 141 of 365
The sunrise this morning over Harbor View Marina is gorgeous. I have heard the saying "Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning!" but I don't think this sailor has anything to worry about.
F22.0 at 5.0, ISO 100, 18-50 mm lens at 18 mm
Dancing Blues
I often stand for long periods of time and watch the vibrant colors dance on top of the water. I find it visually stimulating and very relaxing. This morning, the surface of Hamlin Lake was dancing in blue.
First Snow
This remains one of the most priceless moments I have ever captured with a camera. On an unseasonably cold October day, I saw a flock of sheep marching single-file across a field. I sought permission from Bernal Burke to venture into his Carr Settlement fields. I arrived where the sheep were heading with just enough time to set up my camera. The lead sheep turned sideways, and the next sheep in line followed his lead, setting up a barricade to protect the flock. As they maneuvered, huge snowflakes began to fall. It was the first snow of the season, and the lead sheep did not appear happy. For many years after my camera froze that moment, a framed print of this image usually hung in a prominent spot in our art fair tent. The image caused a lot of laughter as art fair patrons attempted to mimic the lead sheep’s expression and even try to make sheep sounds. It made people happy and brought us some comic relief from our long weekend grind on the Michigan art fair circuit. I will always be grateful to Bernal Burke for being so kind, accommodating and trusting to allow me to roam freely on his land. Besides being a farmer, Bernal served for many years as the Mason County Treasurer. I always admired and respected him when, as a reporter, I covered county government. I admired him as a farmer just as much. I believe we shared mutual respect, which meant the world to me.
Old Mission Quilt
I love it when a picture comes together. I have passed this beautifully cared for old barn many times while traveling M22 on Old Mission Peninsula. Today, at the peak of blossom time, it stands out like never before.
Heavenly Revelation
On the walk back from Big Sable Point Lighthouse around 12:40am on Sunday, May 12th, my dad, Ethan, and I turned around and finally saw the northern lights show we had been waiting for all evening. The pillars shot straight up from the ground to above our heads. It was unbelievably bright and visible to the naked eye. Of course, the camera sees the colors even better than we do. This shot was just before the pillars shrank and disappeared. This is my dad’s photograph.
Big Sable Standout
The bold paint job on Big Point Sable Light distinguishes it from other lighthouses along the Lake Michigan coast by day. By night its "fixed white light" shines continuously to enable mariners to distinguish it from other lighthouses in the region whose lights flash at various intervals.
Mystic Mackinac
I barely got in position in time to make my all-time favorite image of the Mackinac Bridge on March 20, 2012. It was the 12th Tuesday of 2012, and Brad and I were out early to photograph the foggy sunrise for our year-long project to showcase the beauty of Michigan all day every Tuesday of the year for our book, Tuesdays with Todd & Brad Reed: A Michigan Tribute.
Brad and the two other members of our Team Reed full-time staff at the time, Sarah Genson and Rachel Gaudette, shot out of my Suburban when we reached our preselected shooting spot in the Straits of Mackinac. They ran like jackrabbits to the shore’s edge and began shooting the fast-changing, gloriously atmospheric scene in front of them. As I was bringing up the rear, I spotted a cloud formation that looked a lot like a bear. The trouble was, my view of the cloud bear was partially obstructed by the south tower of the five-mile-long suspension bridge connecting Michigan’s Upper and Lower Peninsulas. I know how fast cloud shapes change. I knew if I could get far enough, quickly enough, to the east I might have a shot at lining up the cloud bear right between the towers.
I ran like I was being chased by a bear. I must have run 250 lung-busting yards before the bridge in the middle ground and cloud bear in the background lined up from my perspective. I slammed down the tripod and fired off a quick shot to capture what I saw while it looked almost perfect. Then I took a momentary physical and mental deep breath and began analyzing at warp speed how to improve the image. I quickly shifted my tripod less than two feet to the left to make the rocks in the foreground layer better balance with the middle and background layers. The cloud bear continued to cooperate.
I have taught photographers for years “Clouds are your friends.” They become your very best friends when they are exactly the right shape in exactly the right place. I love clouds, and I love bears. Seeing this view, experiencing the chase and coming away with an even better image than I had envisioned is like winning my personal and private world series of Michigan outdoor photography. This image remains a winner for me. A lot of visitors to our gallery have appreciated it, even before spotting the cloud bear. Children, with their keen, fresh eyes excited about the world they see, tend to be quickest to spot the bear and other imaginary creatures. But once spotted by viewers or pointed out to them, smiles invariably follow. That makes me happy, particularly because I know how much of myself went into making the image.
Rain Dance
Rain Dance by Brad Reed
The rain rarely stops my dad and me from getting outdoors to photograph. Today, we stood in the freezing rain and fog along the shores of Mona Lake near Muskegon, Michigan, to photograph bald eagles. Our good friend, Louise Olson, had told us several eagles congregate near the lake's east edge by some open water. Sure enough, we were not even out of the truck yet and could see several eagles. The rain and fog are what make this photograph more unique.
D7000, F5.6 at 1/2000, ISO 3200, 600mm lens at 850mm
Migrations
After cresting the first massive sand dune near the end of the Ridge Trail in the Ludington State Park, my dad and I were blown away by the number of canvasback ducks that congregated on Hamlin Lake below us. As we stood catching our breath, a pair of large geese flew overhead and startled some of the ducks. With a thunderous roar, several hundred birds took to the air at once. The partially frozen lake and the fog amplified the sound and also created a gorgeous backdrop for this photograph.
