They Call Me Eagle Eyes

Rachel Gaudette's Day 23 of 366 Brad called me on my drive into work this snowy morning; he had spotted a bald eagle by the Pere Marquette River Flats. I headed straight there, switched to my big lens, and adjusted my settings before walking across the highway. I was able to get one shot off. That fast, I made the best wildlife shot I have ever captured and a memory to last a lifetime.

Exhilarating by Brad Reed Clark Little is one of my photographic heroes. His shore break photography of Hawaii has made him world famous. Clark's work inspired me to try to do the same thing in Michigan. The cold, crystal clear waters of Lake Superior, mixed with the colorful rocks and beautiful shoreline, made for the perfect mix.

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

This is, as I look back at my first 50 years as a photographer, the best photograph I have ever made. That lightning bolt still explodes in my mind’s eye nearly a quarter-century after it lit up the night on September 19, 1997. At least once more in my lifetime I would like the privilege of photographing a moment as power-packed as this one. I was as charged as the air about me as an enormous storm cloud fired lightning bolts faster than a giant Gatling gun and swept across Lake Michigan toward my vantage point on the Ludington shoreline. I had a crow’s nest view looking west toward Lake Michigan from my Officer of the Day berthing room on the second deck of Coast Guard Station Ludington. An hour earlier, I had been readying to get my boat crew underway for nighttime training aboard Coast Guard Motor Lifeboat 44345 when I spotted what at first glance looked like miniature lightning bolts barely visible dancing across the entire western horizon. We were seeing a thunderstorm hitting Wisconsin and heading our way. We secured the boat for heavy weather with extra lines and secured the station. With our work day done, I retreated to my room and set up my 300-millimeter lens on my tripod, awaiting the advancing tempest. I maintained my visualized composition, never changing the narrow aim of the Nikon N90 camera at the Ludington lighthouse. I had never seen so many lightning bolts in the sky at once. I decided that the odds of capturing one large bolt lighting up the Ludington lighthouse could not be better than now. As the stormfront raced across Lake Michigan at 45 knots, I began taking 30-second time exposures when it was still 30 miles away. The closer the storm came to the Ludington shoreline, the louder, larger and brighter the lightning became. Many bolts were going off during every time exposure shot, but often north or south of the narrow angle of view of my large telephoto lens. I began doubting my decision not to use a wider angle. The super cell of the thunderstorm was less than a half-mile away now. The lightning was revealing a massive thunderhead cloud steamrolling end-over-end right at me. Boom! I jumped for the first time from the concussion. The light was blinding. My camera was recording it. But what did the camera see? And even if there was a big bolt recorded on the Fuji Velvia slide film, was it going to be in a good position relative to the lighthouse? Only time would tell—a lot of time. There was no instant feedback with film. I would have to wait until I was off duty to send the film in and then wait several days more for it to come back. I remember like it was yesterday pulling slide after slide out of the plastic storage box they came back in from the processor and looking at them one by one on my light table with an eight-power loupe. The first slides I reviewed, which were the first shots taken when the storm was further away, quickly turned my excitement into disappointment. The images were not living up to the experience. But the further I dug into the box, the bigger the bolts were, and the more they lit up and colored the sky. Finally, upon pulling out the next to last slide in the box, I saw the image I had visualized making, except far better than I could have ever imagined making of my own accord. I believe God was my guide in capturing this Heaven-sent moment. I named the image “God’s Light.” Post note: Without my knowledge, my wife, Debbie, entered the original “God’s Light” 35-millimeter slide in the 1998 Nikon International Contest. It won third place.

Tonight, Julia, Ethan and I were on the way to Rachel’s house to have dinner with her, her kids, and several of her relatives. Julia spotted this bald eagle on East Hansen Road not too far from Rachel’s house. This was one of the best “eagle trees” I had ever seen, and it was so cool actually witnessing an eagle sitting in it.

Nothing could have excited this Michigander more on a winter’s day photo excursion on M-22 than experiencing this eagle flying by so close that my 500-millimeter telephoto lens could seemingly reach out and touch it. The mature eagle was among several hunting for food on a January morning near Crystal Lake north of Frankfort. Brad and I were en route to photograph the Point Betsie Lighthouse when we spotted several eagles feeding just offshore by a large open-water seam in the ice. We saw one of the eagles fly to shore and roost in some tall pines on a nearby hillside. The lighthouse could wait; there might be an image here as good or better for the book we had started shooting, Todd and Brad Reed’s Michigan: Wednesdays in the Mitten. We would be proved correct. We quickly set up 25 yards on either side of the flight path and waited…and waited. I was rewarded with my all-time favorite eagle-in-flight image when one of the eagles chose to fly right by my hiding spot instead of Brad’s. The image was (and remains especially) meaningful to me because my Army Ranger son Tad served our country for several years as a 101st Airborne Screaming Eagle. This eagle was definitely screaming past. Once I got on target, I was able to squeeze off three shots as I swung the lens on my gimbal tripod head and tracked with the majestic bird. With fast action shots, a photographer can often pre-select the background; but often, time does not allow one to see at the fraction of a second of exposure exactly how the subject fits against the background. Back the next day on my computer at our gallery, this image screamed for attention and selection. The bird fit perfectly against the background, simplifying and making order out of what would have been chaotic one one-thousandth of a second earlier or later. Brad and I like to say, “Little things are big things.” On this shot, a fraction of a second made a big difference

The sand hitting my face feels like shards of glass as I make my way to the water's edge at Stearns Park to photograph the Ludington North Breakwater Light. The winds over Lake Michigan at times exceed 60 miles per hour. Magic light, white clouds and dark blue sky behind are my backdrop. Now I just need a huge wave. Bingo! F5.6 at 1/1250, ISO 100, 300 mm lens at 300 mm

Sleepy Time – Brad Reed While my aunt Sheryl was vacuuming her living room, she looked through the large picture window and noticed a fawn sleeping peacefully in her pachysandra bushes right next to the house. She immediately called my dad and me and we rushed over with our cameras. I put my lens right on the glass of the window and made this image. I love the heart shape of the bushes that surrounds the beautiful sleeping fawn. Nikon D800. F1.4 at 1/640, ISO 100. 85mm lens at 85mm. On a tripod without a flash. May 13, 2014 at 9:59am.

Taking Flight by Todd Reed A not yet fully mature bald eagle begins to take off from a fishing perch on Hamlin Lake at Ludington State Park. This eagle is one of the first of several mature and immature bald eagles Brad and I photographed for several months. Finding the rare birds and photographing them without interfering with their daily routines is a challenge Brad and I passionately and intensely pursue. I remember our first eagle sighting. We were raging with hunters' fever. I don't know how we ever got off a shot, let alone a good one. But soon good teamwork, strategy and self-control led to images like this.

Patient and Kind by Rachel Gaudette We are so blessed to live near the Ludington State Park, which includes 7 miles of sandy Lake Michigan shoreline. The shoreline allows endless possibilities as each day brings a new scene to capture. Clouds flooded the sky, creating breathtaking reflections as the sun set below the horizon.

Soaring by Todd Reed Our adrenalin flies off the chart as this bald eagle sweeps right over the top of our photography skiff on Hamlin Lake. My son Brad and I have set out this morning in our tiny Boston Whaler to try to show another avid bird photographer, Dr. Zane Knoer, an eagle to photograph. We are getting a better eagle show than we could have dreamed.

Titan by Brad Reed Titan is the most beautiful animal I have ever seen. He is a Friesian, a horse breed that originated in Friesland, in the Netherlands. My friends, Jonathan and Shannon Ray, own Titan. Like a lot of Friesian horses, Titan is well trained to be able to move gracefully, yet powerfully, in circles around his trainers. D800, F2.8 at 1/2000, ISO 1600, 70-200mm lens at 200mm

Sleeping Beauty by Brad Reed While my aunt Sheryl was vacuuming her living room, she looked through the large picture window and noticed a fawn sleeping peacefully in her pachysandra bushes right next to the house. She immediately called my dad and me and we rushed over with our cameras. I put my lens right on the glass of the window and made this image. I love the heart shape of the bushes that surrounds the beautiful sleeping fawn.

Northern Lights At Big Sable Point

I hunt. I hunt deer. I hunt them with rifle, bow or camera. I am proud to be each kind of deer hunter. My love affair with deer hunting began when I was a child watching my parents getting geared up to go deer hunting, then anxiously waiting for them to get back home, hopefully with a buck. I loved hearing the stories of the hunts. I couldn’t wait to turn 14, the minimum legal age for deer hunting when I was a boy. The various youth hunts of recent years did not exist then, but when I was 12, my parents started to allow me to come along on their hunting expeditions in the sand dune area of what is now the Nordhouse Dunes Federal Wilderness. My family hunted from dawn to dark. Most of our time was spent sitting alone in fox holes with small charcoal fires in five-pound coffee cans to keep us from freezing to death. It was a great training ground for outdoor photography, which in my early years of hunting I had no idea I would become interested in someday. In between the fleeting moments of adrenaline rush upon spotting a deer and perhaps attempting to bag it, I spent untold hours perched high atop a sand dune taking in and learning to know and appreciate the spectacular dune landscape surrounding me for as far as the eye could see. The deer hunting quest, the incredible view, and even the fresh air ramming into my lungs made me feel most alive. Some of the greatest adrenaline rushes of my life have continued to involve stalking deer with rifle, bow or camera. But my greatest joy in hunting has derived from simply being in the outdoors, studying the landscape, learning to better see and appreciate its beauty, learning to be prepared, comfortable and at home there, having Mother Nature remind me time after time that this is where I belonged and still belong. In recent years, I have enjoyed spending a lot of time in hunting blinds with my camera. For the past several years, Brad and I have been blessed to have a wonderful business/friendship relationship with Legends Ranch near Bitely, Michigan, one of the finest whitetail deer hunting ranches in North America. Manager Robert Sergi and his highly skilled staff have treated us like family, giving us widespread access to their more than 2,000 acres of hunting land. My son Brad and I knew exactly which blind we wanted to be in on this Christmas card morning in 2016. The pine background of Strip Blind provided a beautiful, contrasting background for the falling snow. If a deer came out close enough, it would be framed against the contrasting snow on the ground. We saw several bucks that morning, a couple of them with much larger racks. Brad was photographing a massive buck to our right when I spotted a buck with a smaller but picture-perfect rack coming out from our left only 30 yards away. The shot I had been making in my mind for many years was materializing. Perhaps scenting us or hearing Brad’s shutter fire as he photographed the other buck, the wary buck stopped, looking in our direction. I fired. My “Legendary” experience making the wintertime deer photograph of my dreams was made. The buck walked on.

Survival Instinct by Brad Reed A tree frog was so well camouflaged that even when a friend was pointing it out to me, I couldn't see it. I finally spotted it when it blinked and moved its eyes. Nikon D800. F5 at 1/6, ISO 100. 105mm macro lens at 105mm. July 26, 2015 at 8:10 PM.

Sometimes you get to see something in nature so heartwarming it gives you a feeling of euphoria. This rare piping plover chick and two of its siblings had flown the coop and were missing in action. Well actually, the rare chicks couldn’t fly yet so they hopped away with their parents from the shelter erected by humans to protect the endangered species from predators and human footsteps. They hopped so far from their dune valley nest site that it was a couple hours before we spotted them by a pond over the next dune ridge. We were greatly relieved they were all alive and well. Being able to capture this parenting moment added to the euphoria.

Foxy Friends by Todd Reed Discovering fox kits at play is one of the great joys of being in the right place at the right time in the Michigan outdoors. When I get off the couch and go outside, I never know what I will find, but I am sure to spot something exciting and beautiful.

Weldon Creek Pheasant by Rachel Gaudette We were having our family Christmas when my nephew spotted a pheasant running around my parent's front yard. I quickly grabbed my camera and followed it out into the woods. Our family loves nature immensely, and we were excited to see a pheasant again. What a wonderful Christmas gift!